


Simplifying the Problem

by IrishWitch58



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Not Beta Read, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, not sure about tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-20 11:16:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 45
Words: 45,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8246857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IrishWitch58/pseuds/IrishWitch58
Summary: This began as a single scene in my head but when I sat down to write, it morphed into something more. Post Winter Soldier, Steve and Sam are dismantling the remains of Hydra one location at a time. In a factory in the Czech Republic, Steve runs into trouble with some Hydra remnants and an unexpected rescuer saves the day. This is a multi-chaptered WIP and will eventually reveal that the entire CW scenario was manipulated and that is not well-received by either side. Especially when a very highly placed somebody is revealed to be a deep Hydra plant. Oh yeah, and there will be smut. But prepare for a slow build. Also please give attention to my profile. I don't do trigger warnings.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Tile is from the quote by Lewis B. (Chesty) Puller: “We’re surrounded. That simplifies the problem.” I have previously published in another fandom and not online. Yes, actual print fanzines. I am completely caught up in Marvel now and specifically Captain America fandom. I have not been able to find a beta but would welcome anyone who would like to take on the job. Comments are always noted and received with gratitude as they demonstrate interest. Also, I am on Tumbler as captain_magicalkitty. Yes I could probably change that to match my pseud here but I thought what Tumbler handed me was kinda cute.

Steve had left Wilson at the hotel. After all this time it was unlikely the old buildings housed anything more dangerous than mice and dust. The location was very low on the list of possible sites but since the lead they had actually come here for had ended up a bust it seemed worthwhile to close the books on this nearby site at the same time. The fact that sleeping wasn't on the agenda tonight as so many in the recent past may have also had something to do with it but Steve Rogers had no intention of admitting that to anyone, even himself. His insomnia was an old issue. Before the damned experiments he had nights where his assorted illnesses had kept him wakeful. Afterward, his body was healthy but his mind seemed to be unable to let go of the day. And with things as they were now, trying to keep Sam and himself safe and under most of the radar, and strategizing about the next operation he was working on about 2 hours out of 24. And those 2 were often interrupted with dreams about a cryo capsule in Wakanda. He accepted the necessity of the choice and the resultant separation but that didn't mean he liked being so far from Bucky.  
He and Sam had been checking out locations on a list of dubious provenance provided by Natasha. All were supposed to be locations used by Hydra as safehouses, intelligence clearing locations or, in some cases, weapons drops. Any that they had found they cleared of remnants of intel and then destroyed any usable tech. Then they had carefully salted the locations with trackers and alarms so they would know if anyone came back to their little ratholes again. They had found precious little. Occasionally they might get very lucky and find a reference to a site or a person they didn't already have on the list.  
Steve had convinced Sam this was a one man job and he would just take a quick survey and be back before morning so they could move on to the next city on their list. Ostensibly the warehouse outside of Brno was an abandoned munitions factory, one of many in the vicinity. He had jogged the distance easily, even in full tac gear. The road was not much used and he only had to duck off track once for a passing truck heading down into town.  
The building was like so many he had searched, debilitated and long abandoned. Many of the windows were broken and a few boarded over. Thick rust coated metalwork. Steve observed for a few minutes from the stand of trees bordering the property. The fence was gone except for a few posts. He edged gradually closer, exercising a bit of the caution and common sense his friends frequently swore he had never possessed. No sounds met his ears but a few distant noises that he dismissed as local wildlife who were undoubtedly aware of a human presence and stayed well clear.  
The west side of the building had a roll up door which was partially raised. There was no sign it had been used any time recently and the dust coating the cracked cement floor was undisturbed except for a few small animal tracks. Steve stood to the right of the door and pressed back against the wall. He counted his breaths for a full two minutes and then ducked and entered, moving immediately to the right again to avoid providing a silhouette. Pausing, he heard faint fluttering and sleepy querulous cooing. There were pigeons in the rafters he decided, quite a flock of them based on the quantity of shed feathers and droppings on the surfaces visible in the moonlight entering through the windows.  
Keeping to the edges of the space, he began to inch around to the metal staircase at the east end of the building. It climbed to a half loft area which appeared to have been offices when the factory was in use. If there were any records, that might be a good starting point. He decided to begin upstairs and then work downward.  
Steve had only gotten about a third of the way across the floor to the foot of the stairs when the net, heavily weighted, dragged him to his knees as it dropped from above. A gas canister rolled hissing up to him. Before he could stop himself, he had pulled in a full breath and his vision narrowed and went black.


	2. Chapter 2

Steve woke trying to make sense of where he was and still not let anyone know he was awake. Keeping his breathing slow and shallow, he listened and heard at least three sets of feet shuffling around. Two were stationed on either side of him and one about six feet away to his right. He was lying on his back on a metal surface and his arms and legs were very effectively restrained at elbows, wrists, knees and ankles with heavy metal fetters. A broad coarse canvas strap crossed his throat. He flexed minutely but could feel no give or any way to gain leverage. He was going to have to wait for any opportunity to make a play. A door opened to his right and he heard a low voiced exchange before the door closed with a solid sounding thud as a heavy tread approached.  
“He's awake, you imbeciles,” declared the new arrival. Steve guessed he might be the one incharge since none of the others attempted to contradict him. “See,” and a leather gloved hand slapped Steve hard across the face. Steve opened his eyes, seeing no point in further playing possum. The face above him was broad and cruel looking. The man was huge, about 6'4” at a guess and he had to weigh at least 270. He was dressed in clothing that gave the impression of a uniform but without any insignia except the tiny Hydra pin on the lapel. The smile as he saw his prisoner looking back at him was wolfish. “I knew the gas would be wearing off about now.”  
Steve took a moment to glance around. The room was concrete and looked to be in better shape than the rest of the factory. He assumed they were still at the same site. He knew how quickly he burned through any tranquilizing agent so there had likely not been time to move him far. There was big and ugly and the three guards, one appearing quite young and two men at the door behind the leader. Another slap jarred his head back to look at the man standing over him. “My name is Vrana and I am in need of answers. How many?” he asked in an even voice.  
Steve tasted blood from where he had cut the inside of his mouth on a tooth. His voice was a faint croak out of his dry throat. “I only see six of you. You have trouble with numbers?” The blow this time was a closed fist and made his ears ring. Damn this guy was strong.  
“Try again. How many are here with you?” Vrana's grin had only widened. This was a sick man. He enjoyed inflicting pain. Steve tasted more blood and that seemed to make the bastard very happy.  
“I'm here by myself.” Steve had no intention of setting them on Sam. Hopefully his friend would be able to figure out something was wrong and he didn't want these goons to anticipate his arrival. He steeled himself for the pain he knew was coming. It might be some time before he could get out of here.


	3. Chapter 3

The questions droned on and always the same few ones. Steve kept delaying and giving vague answers or none at all. Predictably the response to this was more intense torture. Fists slammed into his body and face over and over. He had at least four cracked ribs and his nose was broken. A blow from a guard's baton had smashed his right forearm. Bruises that would ordinarily heal readily had no time to disappear before another impact multiplied the damage. His gear that offered some protection at first had been sliced off with very sharp blades. The effort also took some skin here and there. Vrana leaned over Steve with that awful smile and splashed alcohol in the cuts. Seeing the twist in Steve's face, he grinned even more widely and took one of the knives. He tested the edge on Steve's chest first, a long relatively shallow slice. He progressed over his skin methodically. The questions had ceased by now. This was just torture and Steve resolved to ride out the pain as best he could. Either Sam would arrive with some back up or these men would make a mistake he could turn to advantage. Steve's muscles tensed and quivered as the blade moved, so sharp he almost didn't feel it until the alcohol seared in every few strokes. The cuts progressed over arms, legs and torso. Every few cuts, the alcohol would be reapplied. Suddenly the blade veered downward and Steve felt the briefest catch as the fabric of his shorts gave way. The blade made five quick swipes over his cock and inner thighs and this time he couldn't bite back the sounds he made when the alcohol was poured on and then rubbed in with the leather gloves, the seams catching the raw flesh and painting his entire nervous system with agony.  
“This is becoming tedious.” Vrana shook his head in mock disappointment. “Since we seem to have no luck with acquiring information, perhaps our 'guest' can entertain us in some further way.” The heavy hand on his genitals returned and Steve fought down nausea that threatened to choke him. He had a sudden feeling that the last few hours might soon be a relatively fond memory. All the injuries done so far were known ones, pains he regarded as old familiar adversaries. The lecherous innuendo in Vrana's voice and manner were chilling. Steve gave one massive effort, straining his muscles with not the slightest hint of any weakness in his restraints. There was laughter around him as he slumped back. The table felt impossibly colder. One of the guards reached below the table and something made a ratcheting sound as the restraints on his legs began to shift, drawing his knees up and out, leaving his thighs spread in excruciating vulnerability. The motion also pulled his torso down, sliding across the steel surface and tightening the throat strap, threatening to strangle him. Vrana watched with the same reptilian stare and cold smile as Steve struggled to breathe. He loosened the strap finally, observing to the guards, “It won't be as much fun if our guest isn't awake to appreciate this.” Steve regained his breath and would have spit in the evil face if he had any spit left. Vrana watched his face carefully as he trailed his hand back down to Steve's crotch. He squeezed once more and the fingers dropped lower. Steve's muscles sang with the tension and sweat poured out of every pore. One gloved finger trailed over his anus then plunged in dry and Steve was unable to fight back a scream in the face of a pain he had no experience with. This was the unknown and panic exploded in his brain and he struggled uselessly. A second finger joined the first and the screams died away to hoarse pained gasps as the leather seams scraped his inner walls and the fingers twisted and Vrana watched him avidly. Dimly he was aware of comments from the others in the room, mainly in what he took to be Czech but Vrana kept up a running commentary in English about how enjoyable he found this 'pasttime'. He shoved in hard one more time. “He's tight as a 12 year old boy. Pass some oil.” One of the nearer guards tossed over a small metal container that he pulled from a red tackle box in the corner. Vrana showed more teeth than ever but the effect was made chilling by the flat inhumanity of his eyes. He unbuckled and unzipped and snapped open the top of the can. Vrana slathered some on himself and shifted closer to the table. The rest of the men pressed close to get a better view and Steve just wanted to be somewhere else. He closed his eyes to the sights and the snickering comments and opened them on a pained gasp as Vrana grasped his bruised and lacerated cock and ordered, “Watch me if you want to keep this. I want to see your eyes as I do this.” On the last word he rammed in and a choked scream and involuntary tears of pain coursed out of Steve. Vrana set a harsh and punishing rhythm and anytime Steve tried to shut his eyes or turn his head, another knife slice or brutal squeeze would pull him away from the safety of his own head. It seemed to be a very long time as Vrana heaved over him, battering him from inside as he and his goons had already done from the outside. The rhythm finally faltered and he thrust one or two more times and grunted in evident satisfaction. Pulling away hurt almost as badly as the entry had. And then the man waved one hand over Steve's body and said something to the rest of the men who immediately began shuffling into place at the foot of the table. Steve grimaced as the first guard moved to take Vrana's place.


	4. Chapter 4

The rapes had long since run into each other in his perception, a lengthy nausea-inducing loop, as he tried to hold onto a few shreds of sanity and keep a rudimentary plan in mind. He almost laughed bitterly at the memory of the whole 'man with a plan' label. At some point Vrana had replaced the man at the foot of the table obviously intending a second round for himself. Before he could do so, a clanging crash reverberated through the room. The guards in various states of satiation and undress were unprepared when the door literally blew open, a shock wave threatening to burst Steve's eardrums. There was a flurry of motion Steve had difficulty following. The guard closest to the door collapsed forward, his throat having grown an apparent second mouth that gushed bright arterial blood that sprayed over everything. The figure that advanced over the fallen body wore a mask and black tac gear. The armor couldn't conceal the broad muscled strength of the man wearing it. A quick forward flick of the right hand and the guard nearest the table sank to the floor, the hilt of a knife protruding obscenely from his eye socket.  
The two guards on the far side from the door were struggling with their clothes and went down with blades in their throats, gurgling and frothing red dyed foam from their mouths. The last guard, the one who looked like he was barely out of his teens, after seeing his compatriots die, was crouched in a corner with wide panicked eyes, scrabbling for his sidearm. A backhand slash with a huge curved combat blade almost took his head off.  
Vrana was still standing and the deadly newcomer advanced on him swiftly and purposefully, knife in hand still dripping with blood from it's last kill. Vrana glanced at the door as if judging his chances of running then abruptly lunged forward. There was a grunt as he collided with the mystery figure and then staggered back to the far wall, his opponent advancing step for step as he retreated. When Vrana's back had flattened to the concrete of the wall, the mysterious figure halted for a moment and then heaved his right arm upward and back and stepped to one side as blood and lacerated loops of bowel spilled from the abdominal wound running from pelvis to chest. Vrana screamed in agony and collapsed in his own blood. One more quick motion and the screaming stopped as the blade plunged into the dying man's heart.  
“Who...” Steve croaked as the black clad figure finally stepped to the table. Examining it for a few moments, he began unfastening the restraints. Unbuckling the throat strap, he grasped Steve by the shoulders and helped him to sit. His head spinning, he watched as his rescuer removed the mask. He was unable to say another word as he recognized the face. After all the pain and fear he had just been through the sight of Bucky Barnes was what finally made him pass out.


	5. Chapter 5

Reality returned with a sudden jagged fear and Steve struggled briefly before realizing the arms holding him and the face looking down at him were completely familiar. He was in Bucky's lap where he had apparently eased them both to the floor. He had a brief hysterical moment when he wondered what might have caused him to hallucinate this. Then the pain crashed over threatening to drown him again and he knew this was improbably real.  
“Gonna move us,” and Bucky suited action to words as he rose to his feet. Steve got glimpses of the carnage in the room and almost gagged on the stench of spilled blood and the even worse reek of spilled intestines. A few moments of vertigo and a short walk down a corridor followed. A door blessedly shut behind them. They sank onto a surface that had some give to it. He forced his eyes open and decided it was a disused private office and the surface was a sofa as he was eased to a position on his left side. Bucky waited as Steve's eyes focused and cleared a bit. “With me?” He managed to nod and tried to speak, wanting to ask so many questions. Bucky must have seen the need and laid a warm hand on Steve's chilled, tear stained face. “Questions later. I'll be right back.”  
He was out the door silently and Steve shuddered with the cold that seemed bone deep. He was sinking back into the half aware state that had gotten him through the pain of however many hours he had just lived through when the door slid open just as quietly and Bucky was back, carrying two duffle bags. He unzipped and pulled the top of one wide, dragging out a thin silver blanket. Heat reflecting, Steve realized. He was quickly wrapped in it and grabbed at Bucky's hands when he tried to pull back. HANDS? Recognizing the puzzlement, Bucky held up the left one. “Prosthetic, light weight but not as functional as the old one. Useful enough.” There was a hint of the grin that was so much a part of the man and Steve managed a half smile in return.  
Bucky moved the cushions and eased onto the sofa, lifting Steve and one of the ratty pillows onto his lap, arranging the blanket over both of them, trapping necessary heat. Eyes closed again, Steve analyzed the symptoms of shock in his own body. Heaven help him, he had needed to do this way too often. The chills and tremors were better with another warm body nearby but he was still in ridiculous amounts of pain. Healing fast never meant the pain was any less. The vertigo was fine so long as he didn't try to move. He was on the point of drifting when the door opposite slammed open. Other than a quick tensing of his muscles, Bucky didn't move.  
“What the actual fuck happened here?” Sam Wilson gritted out. He had his own tac armor on and night vision goggles pushed up on his forehead. He was keeping the muzzle of a Glock 18 aimed steadily at Bucky.  
“Sam, it's OK,” Steve began.  
“Like hell it is,” Sam responded, aim never wavering. “You disappear, and I get an emergency beacon signal and find you looking like a truck hit you and Barnes the only one besides you and he's not even supposed to be defrosted.”  
“I'm right here”, interjected Bucky, “and I sent the signal. If you'd look down the hall, you might get a better picture?” He remained quiet, voice smooth and hands still. Sam looked doubtful until Steve nodded his head. The weapon lowered and Sam edged out of the room. Footsteps diminished down the hall and then returned. Sam entered, holstering the pistol with one hand and wiping his mouth nervously with the other.  
“You?” he directed at Bucky, receiving a brief nod and an unreadable expression in return. Straightening his shoulders, he gestured at Steve. “We need to get him out of here. How bad is he?”  
Ignoring Steve's ineffective attempts to get up and shushing him absently, Bucky answered for him. “Bad enough. You have transport?”  
“Left the car about a mile down the road. Good thing. There were two sentries outside.” A questioning eyebrow got a grimace from Sam. “They're not an issue anymore. I'll bring the car back up and you get him up to the back entrance. Not sure how we'll cover our tracks though.”  
The grin on Bucky's face this time was pure devil. “Think I can handle that.” He glanced meaningfully at the second duffle and Sam found himself grinning right back.


	6. Chapter 6

Steve was bundled into the back of the car with the rear seat lowered so he could lie down if he curled his legs up and angled into the space. Bucky and Sam hauled the bodies of the two sentries down into the concrete basement chamber, neither of them saying more than two words as they worked. Bucky retrieved a series of packages from one of his bags and placed them at points in the room and at cross corridors as they returned to the entrance. He directed Sam to back the car away and followed on foot with the bags. He raised a hand to halt the car and tossed one bag, now almost empty, into the footwell and the second in the back. He was holding a shoulder held grenade launcher. The projectile he loaded was silvery and had indecipherable markings. He glanced back to make sure the car was clear before he fired. There was a brilliant explosion, then a series of rumbling crashes as the building collapsed into a crater, hellishly lit from within. Bucky returned to the car, placed the launcher in the duffle and crawled into the back with Steve, bracing his semiconscious form against his chest.  
Sam wasted no time in reversing the car and heading back to town, pausing at the remains of a mine with a deep lake in the center to dispose of the bag. On returning to the car he looked in the back. Bucky was soothing a wakeful Steve with murmured words and slow circles of his right hand over the blanket covered back. “Do I even want to know how you got that thing?”  
“Surprised you even know what it was,” Bucky managed a half grin. “And the answer is, no you don't.” Sam took that as all the answer he was going to get. Probably better not to know how that man had gotten hold of a Russian Bumblebee.  
The remainder of the drive needed no conversation and was accomplished in relative silence. Sam drove carefully, avoiding the worst spots in the poorly maintained asphalt surface for several miles before he was finally able to connect with the highway. The hotel was still 20 minutes away. Sam did his best to ignore the smothered grunts and the soft soothing that followed. He needed to be focused and clear headed. Just because they had gotten away, they weren't home free.  
He pulled the car into the lot of the small hotel and drove around to the back. “I'll go around the front and let you guys in through the back door from inside.” His answer was a nod as Bucky shifted to gather the blankets more closely around Steve. Sam hefted the first aid box and the bag from the back and walked away to the front of the hotel.  
“Steve,” Bucky whispered, sliding back to the hatch at the rear of the car. “Come on, you gotta move.” By coaxing and nudging he was able to get the man out of the car and standing, unsteadily true, but standing and the door opened a few minutes later. Sam led them to the third floor. He let them into room 32 and pointed to the door immediately to the right as they entered.  
“The rooms connect,” he said. He watched as Bucky carefully laid Steve down on the side of the big double bed. “We're gonna need more than the first aid kit. I saw a pharmacy a block or two over. I'll be back in bit.” Bucky just waved absently over one shoulder as Sam retreated to the other room and ditched his tac gear. A few minutes later, there was the sound of the hall door opening and closing as he left on his errand.


	7. Chapter 7

Steve was feeling as if he were floating in warm syrup. He didn't want to move. It hurt to move. He was aware of his hurts but so long as he stayed still, he could distance himself. Healing was a useful thing but it was a distinctly weird feeling he thought he would never get used to. He was aware of movement as the lights were switched on and the bathroom door was opened. He heard water running and then a figure sat down on the edge of the bed. He heard a soft thud and opened one blackened eye to see the black clad figure of Bucky removing a second boot and dropping it next to the first. He reached around himself and pulled loose clasps and velcro tabs and eventually stripped off the heavy tac vest. It joined the boots, leaving his figure in cargo pocketed trousers and a long sleeved black pullover.   
“We need to get you cleaned up Steve.” His voice was soft and low pitched. Steve allowed himself to be lifted and helped to the bathroom, resisting only when Bucky attempted to remove the blanket he was clinging to. Bucky's fingers gently released his grip on it and helped him into the tub.   
Kneeling by the tub, Bucky soaped a face cloth and began cleaning Steve's face. He gave no warning of his intent when he grasped firmly and set his nose back to nearly it's normal shape. Fresh tears and a reproachful look made him sigh. “You know that had to be done soon. Hurts worse when you have to totally rebreak it.”  
“Says the voice of experience?” offered Steve, his voice nasal and roughened. He was quiet for a while as the face cloth continued to remove blood and sweat and grime from bruised and lacerated skin. “Talk to me, Buck. How are you here?”   
Eyes on what his hands were doing, Bucky spoke quietly. “Got woken up about six weeks ago. T'Challa had an idea about my head, something from his country's traditional medicine. Not sure I buy all the spiritual stuff he said went along with it but he had that kid Wanda there and some absolutely ancient woman. They had me drink some mix of stuff, tasted like it came from the devil's armpit, but when I finished it they were able to get at all sorts of things.” He pondered a moment as he nudged a shoulder lightly to get Steve to sit forward and began attending to his back. “No, I was able to get at them. I'm still not sure everything was real but they helped me to root out the triggers and remember so much shit...” He paused and rinsed and resoaped the cloth. “As bad as that brew tasted, the stuff I had to learn was harder.” Bucky grimaced. “The 'they' I was fighting so hard was me.”  
“Nah, Buck...” Steve reached for his prosthetic wrist.   
Bucky laid his other hand over Steve's. “Please, let me finish. Easier to do it all at once.” He took a deep breath and dabbed at some of the cuts that criss-crossed Steve's chest. “Hydra and the Russians and whoever the hell else were responsible for the orders and the torture and the programming. But without who I am, they would have had nothing. My sniper skills, my stubbornness, the sheer will that refused to give up for so long, that was all me. And I kept trying to suppress or dig that out like it was part of the problem. Once the witch girls showed me that I needed to use that, and I cannot tell you how weird it was to have those two picking over my nightmares, what I had to do was root out the bad instructions. The rest, good and bad, is all me. I killed and hurt people for a long time before Hydra ever got hold of me. But the reasons were my own or choices made by a power I chose to serve in war. Now I can make those choices again.”   
Steve shook his head a little and closed his eyes as he began to relax. Bucky seemed to read his mind, adding more hot water and working the cloth down his legs. He made a soft almost cough and Steve opened one eye to see uncertainty on the face before him. “You OK with the rest of it or you want to do it yourself?” Steve didn't even hesitate. Bucky and he had seen and done almost everything for each other. He couldn't be bothered to make any distinction here. Taking the small nod as assent, Bucky dropped his hand into the water and Steve felt the gentlest of touches removing the blood and caked fluids from his tenderest areas with the care he had been sure of. After that one hesitation, Bucky proceeded as matter-of-factly as he had ever done when the injuries had been the results of boyhood fights and Steve was grateful for that tiny bit of normalcy.   
After draining and refilling the tub and letting Steve relax in the water for another little while, Bucky leaned in and emptied the tub once again and held up a towel. Steve found the energy to pull himself up and allow the cloth to be wrapped around him, Bucky scrubbing at his hair with a second towel. He followed Bucky through to the bed and laid down on the extra towels spread over the covers. Bucky dropped the towel he had brought in over his lap and set the first aid box on the floor next to the bed.   
“So how did you get here?” Steve asked as the door to the connecting room opened and closed.   
“I'd like to hear that one as well,” commented Sam, leaning in the door and holding out a large canvas shopping bag. Bucky nodded as he accepted the additional supplies and began to hunt through the bag, pulling out a tube of ointment and a package of wide elastic bandaging.  
“Save me telling it twice I guess.” He dabbed antiseptic on the cut on Steve's forehead and applied a butterfly bandage. “I contacted Natalya from Wakanda when they woke me up. T'Challa has contacts everywhere but he didn't have any with you. Nat came up with the list she was giving you guys. When I saw Brno was likely to be your next target I knew there was gonna be trouble. Vrana is notorious, He was nominally Hydra but was always more concerned with his own little fiefdom in the region. Not sure who he was originally but he took the name Vrana – it means crow – because of all the death around him.” Bucky had finished with the cuts over Steve's chest and helped him sit up. He gestured Sam nearer and they began passing the elastic bandage around Steve's ribs. He was sweating when they laid him back down.   
“He didn't seem to know who I was,” Steve ventured in a whisper soft voice. “At least he never mentioned it. Seemed like the sort to gloat if he thought he had a high value prisoner.”  
Bucky grunted as he turned his attention to Steve's right arm. “Maybe the one piece of luck you had. He wasn't high enough in the hierarchy to know enough to recognize you without the suit. What's left of Hydra is not fuckin' around. They want you dead and me if they can catch me. Order is to kill on sight and bring our heads for proof.” While he was talking, he had positioned a splint next to the fractured arm and gave a quick nod to Sam. Steve felt Sam throw his weight on his right shoulder while Bucky grabbed his right wrist and pulled, quickly wrapping the splint tightly to it. His vision dimmed around the edges and he fought the agonizing grinding pain as the shattered bones were realigned.   
When he was fully aware again, Bucky was looking at him with a serious but somehow gentle expression. “Do you want me or Sam for the last bit?” Steve knew what the question meant. Sam had the medical expertise and could certainly be counted on to do a professional job. But Bucky had history and he and Steve had always looked after each other. He really didn't need to think at all.   
“Thanks, Sam. I think Bucky and I can handle the rest.” Sam nodded and walked the short distance to the connecting door. He closed it gently behind him. The TV next door came on quietly, allowing a bubble of privacy.   
The slices and bruising on Steve's genitals were graphic and brutal evidence of the suffering he had been through. Steve had a momentary doubt that maybe he should have had Sam do this when he saw Bucky flinch slightly when he raised the towel. The bath had removed all the old blood and filth and he had pointedly not tried to look until now. The flinch was followed by a bleak grimace. “I am so glad I gutted that bastard.” Bucky said little else for the next few minutes, handling Steve with care and examining each of the sharp edged cuts for remaining debris that might interfere with healing. He applied an antibiotic salve. “Don't need the bug killers but it will help keep chafing down.”   
Steve had become a little lost again in his head when Bucky moved up the bed and nudged him gently. “Sorry, gotta turn over for the last.” Gritting his teeth slightly, Steve shifted to lie on his left side and tried to breathe as deeply and slowly as the tight wrapping on his ribs allowed. Bucky pulled on a purple plastic glove and slathered more ointment on it from a different tube. “Supposed to be local anesthetic,” he muttered. “Not sure if it will work on you but might as well try it.” He laid his prosthetic hand on Steve's shoulder and gently eased a finger into bruised and swollen tissue. There were a few moments of tense anticipation and some vague twinges of distress before the finger withdrew. Bucky stripped and tossed the glove and commented, “No bad tears I can feel and your belly's soft. Not likely to be internal damage.” He produced a clean pair of white briefs from one of his bags. “Let me help you get these on. Little support for the bruising and they should keep the cuts clean.” Steve followed Bucky's cues and was eventually settled in under the blankets with his splinted arm supported on a pillow and Bucky pushing a protein shake on him, cajoling him to just drink a little more every time he paused and started to doze. “C'mon just finish it up. You need the protein to heal and you know it.” He gave an exasperated sigh and managed to swallow almost all the drink. Bucky finally relented and put the cup to one side and straightened the covers. Steve was asleep before he dimmed the light.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so motivated by the fact that people actually seem to have noticed the story that I was able to complete another chapter this evening. Thanks so much for reading. I may not be able to keep the pace up but I do have a definite map and an ending in my head. I will post as often as my work schedule permits.

The traffic sounds were muted and the light coming in through the bland hotel drapes was warm and not so bright as to be uncomfortable on the eyes. Steve heard what had to be a TV at low volume and a soft series of noises that seemed like they should be familiar. He also smelled a distinct slightly sweet metallic tang, Hoppe's #9 he decided. Someone was cleaning weapons. He assessed his body and determined that he was a lot better off than he deserved to be. He must have moved or made some sound. The bed moved as Bucky turned to face him. He was sitting cross-legged on the corner of the large bed with a towel in front of him and a rifle broken down on it. Several other weapons were arrayed on the bedspread to his left. The TV was playing a local news channel apparently, footage of a an explosion and fire with commentary crawl across the bottom of the screen. Steve didn't speak Czech but he guessed it might have something to do with how he ended up here.   
“Yeah, that was me,” Bucky offered. “Figured I needed to make sure there was no sign of what happened. All the news media has is an explosion in an abandoned arms factory they're blaming on some scavengers disturbing unstable old weapons.” He eased to his feet and circled the bed. “Feeling better?”   
Steve grimaced. “Better than what? I Still feel like a truck hit me but I slept...”  
“Yeah, about 26 hours worth,” Bucky chuckled. “You got up once, managed to get to the bathroom, drank two bottles of water and crashed again. He was watching carefully as Steve eased himself up to sit on the edge of the bed. “Seriously, let me see.” He proceeded to examine Steve, hmming to himself as he found healing cuts and diminishing though still livid bruising. The blood under the skin still took time to reabsorb and Steve would be rainbow hued for a little while. He unwrapped the strapping on his ribs and placed his hands over the previously cracked ones. “Deep breath,” he directed. Steve did as asked.   
“Feels OK actually,” Steve said after a moment. Removing his hands Bucky reached for the splinted right arm. He unwrapped the elastic and directed Steve to move the arm and hand as well. Steve glared disapprovingly at the battered limb that moved stiffly and grudgingly. “This not so much,” he commented. “More than just one break there. At least it's healing straight.” He waited as Bucky rewrapped the splint and then turned to hold up a pair of sweats and a tee shirt. With a bit of assistance Steve managed to get the clothes on. As he finished, there was a light tap at the frame of the connecting door.   
“Hey Sam,” Steve managed a half smile. Sam leaned casually against the door frame, nodding at Bucky.  
“You ready, man?” Bucky was hauling on a jacket over a shoulder holster. He made quick work of reassembling and stowing the rifle. He checked and holstered the sidearm he had already completed, zipping the jacket up enough to conceal it. He laced on his boots and pulled a cap on low on his forehead.   
“Eat something,” Bucky advised. I'll be back in a bit.” With no more than that he was out the door which locked behind him. Sam produced a bag of pastries and fruit and began tinkering with the in room coffee maker.   
“He speaks Czech and he looks a helluva lot more local than I do,” Sam offered. “We need more intel than the TV news. And he needs to scope out spots for extraction so we can contact backup.”  
Steve was already on his second pastry and looked frankly puzzled. “We have backup? Since when?”  
“Since a certain millionaire/engineer/asshat found out from a certain Wakandan prince and an ex-Russian spy that he'd been played like a piano. And that, my friend, is a story and a half.” Sam offered a cup of coffee and began to add cream to his own cup. “Stark may be annoying as hell a lot of the time but he hates being manipulated. He especially hates being manipulated into betraying his colleagues and almost killing a friend. After you managed to break the rest of the team out of the Raft, he started getting pieces of intel, a lot from Romanov and a lot filtered through Banner of all people. Banner's not anywhere near New York but he's never far out of touch lately. He's got too much to lose. Point is Stark is back in our corner right now and we need to work on this together because it's too damned big not to.”  
Steve stared and shook his head a little. “I'm guessing there's a lot here I'm gonna hate.”  
“Yeah and I don't even have the whole picture so I would guess it might be better to leave the explanation to someone like Romanov. She's been putting the pieces together all along. If all goes well we'll be out of here by this afternoon and able to make some sort of plan.”   
Steve sat back and sipped at his cooling coffee. He didn't like not having a good picture of a problem but it never paid to plan without as complete a set of facts as possible. Waiting seemed to be all that he could do right now. And that was something he really didn't want because when he had nothing other than nebulous threats he couldn't directly confront, he found his mind flashing back to the events of the last 48 hours and inevitably fell back on the flaw no experiment could eliminate. He could attribute everything to bad luck but his own brain insisted the disaster he had fallen into was his own fault. 'You should have waited – you should have been more careful – you should have...'   
“Cut that out right now,” Sam ordered. He pointed one finger at Steve and continued. “You know what I do when I'm not saving the world with the superfriends. You have just been through more shit that anyone ever deserves in their life and I can see the wheels turning in that head. Plans go wrong and shit happens and we survive it. You will not be getting over it fast or easy. But when you are ready you are gonna talk to me or to Barnes or to someone else. By the way, Barnes probably can read you chapter and verse on what Hydra is fucking capable of so I doubt anything you say will shock him. And after the way he dealt with you the last 30 hours, I am damned sure he cares more for what happens to you than you do sometimes. So you think about that for awhile and have some more damned coffee.” Apparently having run out of energy, Sam sat back and watched the TV whose news crew was now dealing with a story about a donkey rescued from a well in one of the rural provinces. And Steve was left to consider what Sam had said and how he felt about it. It was a very long quiet morning.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's the next chapter. I will keep trying to post regularly. I know how frustrating it is to read a WIP that is updated infrequently.

It was late afternoon by the time the jet was able to get to them. The pick up point was on the opposite side of the city from the explosion. A column of smoke still rose fitfully from the site, gradually dissipating in the afternoon breezes. Sam had driven the car to a point where the road ended at a fence apparently bordering a nature preserve. Feeling physically better, Steve trudged along next to Bucky who refused to allow him to carry anything, remarking with an unexpected grin that he was used to doing the heavy lifting for most of their lives.  
Steve still wore the splint but would likely be able to do without it in a few days. Meanwhile the arm just ached and tingled as it knit. He almost wished his physical hurts were more distracting. As it was, there was nothing much to keep his mind from straying and it always seemed to end up in the same place, listening to that dark voice that whispered he was worthless no matter how much he had been changed by science. How many failures was he guilty of? This time Sam and Bucky had needed to haul him out of the mess he had landed in and how absolutely disgusted they must be at how they had found him. The endless recriminations coiled through his brain and he caught Bucky casting concerned glances his way. He knew Bucky cared for him, had done all their lives, but how long could he put up with Steve's messes.  
The clearing they had designated was already darkening, the afternoon light not reaching that far into the woods. Bucky walked to the far end of the oval and jammed a stake into the ground, activating a temporary landing beacon before walking back. “If they're on schedule, they should be about six minutes out.” As the light faded to full dusk, they waited at the edge of the trees.  
The hum of the powerful engines and a sudden blast of heated air disturbed the peace and the jet descended near the beacon and the ramp lowered. They hurried forward, heaving gear aboard and climbing up after. The interior was lit only by the lights of the consoles as they strapped in and the ramp retracted. The hatch sealed and the jet lifted. The pilot never acknowledged their presence during the first twenty minutes of the flight as they ascended to apparent cruising altitude. The forward hatch to the cockpit opened and the pilot stepped out, leaning against a bulkhead. Tony Stark was not who they had expected to see. Bucky had thought Nat or Vision might have come. Tony looked tired and raised a hand when Sam attempted to speak. He appeared to give careful thought to his opening comment.  
“I fucked up,” he said baldly, “and I really don't like having to say that. But the reason I fucked up is actually the important part. I dropped my usual level of suspicion for those in authority. I listened to Ross instead of my friends.” He ran a hand through his hair and seated himself, looking sidelong at the three of them and settling his gaze on Bucky who looked back with a completely neutral expression. “You didn't kill my parents. That video was a careful construct and was presented in a way to trigger the worst possible reaction from me. We analyzed it and found the way it was doctored. Zemo got it through channels Ross had control of. Hydra killed my parents. They just didn't use you to do it. And Dad, he knew he was a target, and he dragged Mom along with him even though he knew.”  
Bucky finally spoke, looking at his clasped hands and not at Tony. “ Natalya got you this?”  
“Among other sources,” Tony acknowledged. “You do know it's all about you two though, don't you?” He gestured at Steve and Bucky. And got a puzzled frown from Steve and a steady gaze as Bucky raised his eyes.  
“Howard couldn't leave it be,” Bucky spoke slowly and softly. It was not a question.  
Tony shook his head. “No, he was convinced he could reproduce the supersoldier effect if he worked at it long enough. And he didn't much care how he went about it after awhile. I went digging. He fed the Russians information when he couldn't get clearance for human experiments here.”  
Steve looked back and forth between Tony and Bucky. Tony looked more shattered than he had ever seen him, shoulders slumped and deep circles under his eyes. Bucky was leaning back with his eyes closed. At a loss, Steve looked to Sam who had been following the conversation and saying nothing. Sam rubbed a hand over his jaw and neck and heaved a deep sigh. “I think Tony is trying to tell us that Howard was responsible for the Winter Soldier project.”


	10. Chapter 10

Steve was rather numbly trying to make some sense of all this. He shook his head, looking at the three other men. Sam had crossed his arms over his chest after his pronouncement with the attitude of someone who had passed the ball and was awaiting the result. Bucky still maintained that same eerie neutrality and Tony, if possible, looked even more crushed. Steve had known Howard Stark. He knew the man had changed as he aged, became more cynical and less trusting according to everything he had heard and read. But Steve couldn't imagine Howard as a traitor. “Howard wouldn't have,” Steve began.  
“I doubt he realized,” Bucky interrupted with a quietly commanding voice. Steve found this new Bucky puzzling. It seemed impossible he could be this calm and rational after all the confusion he had been dealing with previously.  
Tony's mouth was twisted in a sour grimace. “He knew enough. He was part of Operation Paperclip and he knew about Zola, apparently worked with him for awhile. From the paper trail, it appears he used Zola's work and what he could recover from Erskine's notes in an attempt to recreate the supersoldier formula. He was fairly obsessed with it. The files were secured by the SSR and later SHIELD. Secure but not nearly enough. We think Zola still maintained his Hydra connections and used them to leak the same information to the Russians. And we know what they did with it.”He glanced at Bucky and in any other man the look might have been called guilty. “He had the latest version of the serum in his car the night he died but it's unclear where he was taking it.”  
Bucky was methodically flexing his prosthetic hand, watching the fingers curl and extend. “You said it was Zola who gave that away. I bet you didn't find any connection directly from your father to Hydra.”  
“Would there be one?” questioned Sam. “Seems like Hydra was always fond of the long game and preferred to keep their more valued resources very deep and very compartmentalized.”  
Bucky was looking at his hands again. 'Who had oversight of the project once your father was gone?” He looked at Tony and waited.  
“The military, not sure who. It was always a military project. What are you getting at?"  
“Who was the one who pushed Banner's work so hard and helped create that mess in Harlem? A mess that was shoved under the rug really quietly when he was proposed as Secretary of State?” Bucky glanced around at all of them. “Ross has to be Hydra. It's the only thing that makes sense. I've seen the same files you have. They infiltrated SHIELD so why not the US military?”  
“Wait a minute,” Sam interrupted. “If he was already in charge of the project or working under the guy who did, why would he need to have Howard Stark die?”  
Steve's brain was finally making some connections. “He needed to be able to use it the way he wanted. No regulation or oversight. If the stuff disappeared from military storage, there would be too many questions. This way he could have it tested by Hydra scientists with no ethical issues being raised. And if it was successful, he would make sure Hydra benefited.” He fidgeted with the edge of the splint. “We need to get everyone we can trust together, share this and come up with a plan. Ross has had the upper hand for too long. He has to be stopped.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a very exhausting day at work yesterday so the new chapter had to wait for this evening. Future chapters will have pretty landscapes, interesting local customs, heartfelt conversations, oh and sheep.

The flight continued. Tony returned to the cockpit. Sam dozed, slumped sideways in his seat, head pillowed on a folded up blanket. He'd been too exhausted to bother with pulling out one of the bunks. Bucky kept his peace for a bit. Steve was almost hoping to pass the rest of the flight that way. No such luck.  
“You're gonna need to talk sooner or later,” Bucky pronounced calmly. “You and I both know you are not OK. You think you're coping but you're just burying the problem. That doesn't work forever.”  
Steve made a choked sound. He had been trying for a laugh and was appalled that it sounded more like a sob. “Talk to who? And say what? That I was so distracted I let some half-assed Hydra goons get the better of me and they beat me for fun and...and.” His voice trailed off. He looked down at his feet, picking at the splint again.  
Bucky's voice was gentle but unrelenting. “Call it what it is, Steve. It was rape, and if we were talking about anyone but you, you'd be the first to say that it's been a tactic of war and terror for as long as people have been around and it is not the fault of the person who was attacked. This is victim blaming. And I don't want to see you do this to yourself.”  
Steve's voice was harsh in his own ears. “Since when did you become such an expert?”  
Bucky waited a long time to answer. For awhile Steve thought the conversation was mercifully over. “You found me at Azzano. You don't know about a lot of the other things that happened before that.” Steve turned his head and looked directly at Bucky for the first time. Reading the question, Bucky smiled sadly. “Not me. A friend of mine. His name was Tom Sadler. He was part of a scouting unit and got separated. We found him a day and a half later. He was beaten and raped bloody and screamed when anybody came near him. We finally got him calmed down and got him back to camp. He disappeared two nights later. We found him the following morning. He'd shot himself. He left a note where he blamed himself for what happened. The squad covered it up. He had family back home. We reported him as KIA.” Bucky swallowed hard and continued. “When I saw what they did to you, I did a little looking. There's lots of good information online and I read what I could find. So I know the language and the problems.”  
Steve rested his elbows on his knees and let his head hang. “I really don't think I'm ready to talk right now.”  
Bucky placed a hand on his shoulder and punctuated his words with a gentle squeeze. “Promise me you will, soon. I know what your promises mean so I want one now. Me or Sam or someone else if you need someone else. But you will talk to someone and get rid of what you're carrying around.”  
Steve nodded but Bucky squeezed his shoulder to prompt him. His friend wasn't gonna let him off without a real promise. “Fine, Buck. I promise I will talk when I'm ready.”  
Satisfied for the moment, Bucky crossed his arms and leaned his head against the padded backrest. Steve thought he heard him whispering something but the sound was very faint and swallowed by the drone of the engines.


	12. Chapter 12

It was a few more hours before the plane began to descend. The cockpit door was open a crack and Tony's voice carried as he talked with someone over the radio about landing. The jet eventually settled to a stop and the engine noise faded to silence. Tony stepped through and headed for the hatch, lowering the ramp. Cool fresh air with a vague hint of salt and moisture wafted in. Sam had woken up an hour or so before and all of them gathered up whatever gear they had and moved to the ramp. Tony was already at the foot of it, waving to a figure in an oversized golf cart. The cart pulled up and the stocky young man in the driver's seat got out and helped stow bags before heading into the jet. Tony took the wheel and drove away as the jet engines fired up again and it lifted and turned and headed away.  
The scenery was rugged and lonely and the sky overhead a clear blue. Seabirds circled and called, the sound unutterably lonely. Steve wondered where in the heck they were. The road was a barely discernible track through low scrub covered hills. They had seen no buildings and certainly no people other than the guy who had brought the cart. Tony made a sharp turn onto another apparently identical track and slowed a bit, looking for something. He finally pulled up next to a small structure made of undressed stones with a metal roof. He got out, turned to face the cart and announced “Welcome to the far side of the moon, also known as St. Kilda's. Specifically this is the island of Hirta.” Steve glanced around, not sure what rabbit hole he was standing on the edge of now. Looking at the three men in front of him and seeing little reaction, Tony gave a lopsided grin and continued. “Isolated, no year round inhabitants and a research facility for local ecology funded by yours truly. And the radar tracking station is accustomed to supply flights coming in and out so I took a roundabout route to make it look like we were coming in from over the Atlantic.” As he spoke he had moved to the edge of a drop off that proved to be a sizable cliff with rough surf breaking on the rocks below. He swung over, holding on to a metal railing and began to descend a narrow staircase attached to the rock. Bucky hefted his bag and followed. Steve mustered energy from somewhere and did the same with Sam bringing up the rear. The stair switchbacked twice before they ended up on a shingle beach.  
As they arrived, Tony was sending some message on his phone. There was bubbling turbulence and a series of clanking noises and a black shape rose up from the water and a walkway extended. “Tech is similar to the Raft, submerges and becomes invisible from the surface. Part of our deal with the Scottish Council that administers it is that we remain as invisible as possible. And we are doing some good ecological research here. And they're used to exchanges of personnel.”  
Steve forced himself to take an interest. “What security? Are we safe here?” He knew that was a relative question. For people like himself and Bucky, there was no absolute safety. He'd had that hammered into him so often it was laughable overkill.  
“The physical structure is tough and resistant to conventional weapons.” Tony was talking as they crossed the ramp. “And Friday is fully integrated into the system for monitoring. We placed remote sensors all over the island. I thought long and carefully about a good place for us to take stock and decide what to do, Cap. We all need to catch our breath and plan. We can do that here.”  
Bucky spoke up. “Armament?”  
“Portable only because of the oversight but as much as I could manage.” Tony sounded a little grim as he said it. Bucky nodded, satisfied for the moment.  
They were all inside a metal hatch by this time. “Button up, Friday.” The ramp retracted and the hatch closed with a faint ear popping air shift.  
“Understood, Sir. And welcome, gentlemen.” The soft accents of Tony's AI murmured from the speakers in the ceiling. “Will you require meals or should I direct you to your quarters or medical first? Captain Rogers appears to have sustained some injury.”  
Bucky must have felt him tense up and spoke in answer. “Quarters would be fine. The injuries are healing and we'll seek medical attention if there's need.” Steve relaxed a little. He didn't think he could tolerate strangers prodding him and asking questions and seeing answers in his face he didn't want to give voice to. Tony looked at him sharply, as though he wanted to say something. He glanced at the now ragged splint and the still spectacular bruising and raised a quizzical eyebrow but, for a miracle, said nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally able to sit down and work. St. Kilda's is an actual place. There are no civilian year round inhabitants and only a few people staff a radar base on one of the islands. The research facility is a fictional creation. The cliffs are real and regarded as quite spectacular.


	13. Chapter 13

Friday directed them to compact but comfortable cabins. They arrived to find a young woman with dreadlocks and a Stark Industries polo shirt. She had a brilliant smile and a distinct and pleasant Southern accent. “My name is Genevieve and I'm detailed to assist you finding your way around. There are clothes that should fit in the closets and toiletries in the bathroom and anything else you need, you can ask me.” She ventured into the room she had showed Sam and pointed to the wall phone. “Pick it up and dial 1 and ask for me and I can either give you info over the phone or come to wherever you are. There are in house phones in every compartment. And of course Friday is available 24/7.”  
Steve knew he should be doing something, being active, but he just wanted to close a door behind him and collapse. Bucky was close to his left side and was moving him subtly to the room designated as his. Sam caught the movement and Bucky's eye.  
“I think we're good for now, Genevieve.” Sam spoke to her, smiling engagingly. “Thanks so much. We'll call you when we're ready to go eat.” She smiled in return and gave a wave as she walked down the corridor and passed through a hatch which closed behind her.  
Steve sat down on the bunk and, when Bucky attempted to move away, grasped his arm and pulled him to sit beside him. Sam looked at them from the doorway then closed the door quietly, returning to his own room across the corridor. Bucky was waiting and Steve still didn't know what to say. Finally he ventured, “When was the last time we were alone and not needing to fight or run?”  
Apparently sensing the mood, Bucky placed his right arm around Steve's shoulders. “Brooklyn, before I went to Basic. We had soup and fresh bread from Schaeffer's bakery and you made me wear civvies instead of my uniform.”  
Nodding, Steve looked up and met his eyes. “Wasn't jealous of you being able to get in. I was afraid I might never see you again and I wanted to remember things the way they had been before the war.” Bucky pulled him closer and nudged a bit before Steve put his head down on the offered shoulder, the comfort of an old and much practiced gesture. They had spent their childhoods and young adulthoods battling poverty and illnesses and their lives since had been one long battle against enemies that seemed endless in numbers and permutations. “What you told me about your friend Sadler? You said that because you knew I was blaming myself.”  
“And aren't you?” Bucky's voice was sympathetic but uncompromising.  
“I'm strong and skilled. I'm supposed to be smarter than that.” Steve's anger with himself was palpable. “And I was so stupid. I didn't even think that they might...I couldn't even understand what he was doing at first. Buck, I was so scared.” The admission brought all the fears back. Steve shuddered moved even closer.  
Bucky made a small huffing noise and leaned back, drawing Steve with him to lean against the padded rest behind the bed. “Steve, nobody ever told us shit about anything to do with our bodies, how they could feel good or be used against us. I thought I was pretty up on that sort of thing. I knew shit. And what I've learned since was always colored by what Hydra wanted me to do. One thing I can guess. You never did much of anything with another person in regards to sex. Anything that a person can do and enjoy that way can be twisted to feel utterly awful.” He sighed and rubbed his chin over the top of Steve's head. “You never had anyone put a finger or two there for pleasure?”  
Steve shook his head minutely. “Never really been touched at all,” he finally admitted. “Before Erskine and Stark changed me, no one seemed interested and things back then were so different. And no girl then would do that. People now are so much more open but I never met anyone I wanted to try with. And then DC happened and I feel like I've been running ever since. I've read enough to know what you're saying is true but still doesn't seem like something I could do.”  
Bucky chuckled a little and then tightened his hug minutely. “You never dated the girls I did then.” He stared back as Steve raised his head, a scandalized expression on his face. “Yes, girls do that for you if you like it and if they like you enough.” He stared back for a moment. “No, I won't tell you who. Beside, we're talking about you. And what I can tell you is that with all the nerves there, it's a pretty obvious target for someone who wants to hurt as well as humiliate a prisoner. And men have been doing that to other men for just that reason for a long time. It's power and violence and using your own fears and reactions against you.” He paused and seemed to think of something and ventured in a quieter voice. “Are you honestly asking if they somehow read something from you, that you brought that on? Because that's crap.”  
“Maybe, I don't know. Why me?” Steve's voice sounded small and sad to himself.  
“They didn't know who you were. They wouldn't have cared who you were. They have done the same thing to other prisoners before. I told you I heard about Vrana. It's one of the reasons I came in that hard. He had the reputation of a sadistic interrogator and you may not want to hear it but you are luckier than some of the other poor bastards he got hold of. The rumors I heard were that when he got tired of using his dick, he resorted to other objects. Knives primarily.”  
Steve shuddered and turned to face Bucky, shifting from under his arm but keeping a grip on his right hand. “When does it start to feel better? I keep seeing it, feeling it.”  
“You heal fast here,” Bucky pointed at the splint. “Here, not any faster than any other man.” He touched his forehead gently to Steve's. “For now it's enough you can talk. Let's get cleaned up and find that nice lady and get some food.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Conversations started but guaranteed there is more. And Genevieve is a tribute to a friend I work with.And two chapters in one day!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short but important chapter. Thanks all for reading.

The dining facilities were definitely reflective of the Stark Industries corporate reputation. The room was softly lighted and featured a series of video screens showing relaxing abstract moving patterns and one large window allowing a view of the underwater environment around the facility. Genevieve informed them that the inhouse chefs served meals several times a day but there was always at least one chef on duty at all hours. The menu changed frequently and addressed any preferences or allergies. Steve, Bucky and Sam selected a table and had their food delivered shortly. Steve had elected to try the shepherd's pie. Bucky was working on a cheese and spinach omelet and Sam was digging into a large slice of Chicago deep dish pizza with everything.  
Tony arrived about halfway through and grabbed a large tumbler from the on duty chef who seemed to have inside knowledge of his predilection for oddly green smoothies. Tony drank from the container and nodded approval and walked over to the table, pulling a chair from an adjoining vacant one. “Okay, here's the deal. The rest of the gang are arriving over the next two days. Thor may be doubtful, some Asgardian obligation, but Natasha, Clint, Wanda and Vision are all coming.”  
Sam looked up from his pizza. “Banner?"  
Tony nodded. “I sure hope so. We need his know how about the serum and bio stuff. Not really my forte. I reached out and told him I'd send transport. He said if he was coming, he's arrange his own.”  
“So what do we do until then?” Steve picked idly at the remains of his food. Tony noticed Bucky eyeing the plate critically. Apparently satisfied with the calories consumed, he returned to the last few bites of his omelet.  
“You do whatever you need to do to be ready for the shit to hit the fan. I've got all the files we've been able to access so far. Our medical facilities and gym are top notch. And there's plenty of entertainment. I understand we even have a fairly good string quartet. And there's always the island. Too outdoorsy for me but apparently nice this time of the year.” Tony looked at them all. “I'm sure you can all manage to fill the time.” Tony turned the tumbler around in his hands, looking into it as if it contained wisdom instead of green sludge. “I have a few misplaced articles I think you might want back.” He gestured at a young man who had poked his head in the door next to the serving station. The head withdrew and the young man returned pushing a cart with a drape over it. Tony pulled off the drape with a magician's flourish and revealed Falcon's wings.  
Sam was obviously shocked. “Man, you sure have a real flare for the dramatic.” He ran a hand lightly over the pack. It had a new design on the outer casing. “You been doing upgrades again?” He directed a grin at Tony and stroked over the pack again, possessively.  
“You know me, tinkering all the time. Take 'em for a spin tomorrow and tell me if anything isn't up to your expectation.”  
Tony reached under the cart and there was a metallic chime like a bell as something tapped the side of the cart. He held the shield, it's gleam bright under the lights. “Cap, I was wrong. The Accords were crap. And I understand being so determined to save your friend. I was angry and afraid of where things were going and Zemo hit me where I lived.” Tony held the shield out with his left hand and extended his right. “I want you to have this back and I want my friend back.”  
Steve stared and touched the shield with one careful fingertip. He reached for Tony's hand and rose to his feet. Tony followed, obviously uncertain. He gave a small grunt as he was pulled into a hug. The shield dropped to the tiled floor, ringing quietly. “Thanks,” Steve finally said as he released him. “I'm sorry too. Friends shouldn't hurt each other like that. We both thought we were right. It's over and I'm glad it is.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the short chapter this evening. I edited minor errors in some of the preceding as well. Thanks to everyone who has been reading.

The shield was sitting against the wall of Steve's room. On a hanger in the tiny closet, next to the selection of other clothing was a new rendition of the suit. Steve eyed it dubiously. It was certainly not the worst design he had ever seen. It was actually a bit more practical than some. The colors were muted – less red. The boots and gauntlets were a darker, almost mahogany color leather.  
Tony had been quite proud of the features and had tried to explain all the 'goodies' as he called them but Steve had just pasted on what he hoped was a friendly smile and told the man he would let him catch him up on the new features sometime soon. Tony had stopped in mid pitch. “Oh man, I totally get it. Geriatric and injured. Can I have the chef scare up some Ovaltine for you? Or get Friday to read you a bedtime story?” Not getting the humorous protests he had been used to, Tony sobered. “Seriously, Cap, get some rest.” He caught sight of Bucky just over Steve's shoulder, expression more than a little disapproving to Tony's eye. “I'll let your service pitbull here guide you off to your quarters.” He turned his attention to Sam, switching gears to tout the new features and improvements for the wings and Sam groaned, knowing this could take awhile.  
Steve had heaved an almost silent sigh of relief. Bucky nudged him with an elbow and helped him gather up the suit and shield. They walked in silence back to their rooms. Once Bucky had retreated next door, Steve found himself really alone. The last time he had been alone was the warehouse. He shuddered and pushed the thought away, shaking his head as though to jar loose the darkness in it. He opened his left hand and looked at the three tablets. Bucky had called medical and requested some supersoldier strength painkillers for him. Steve had brushed his teeth as well as he could with his left hand and had simply wriggled out of the sweat pants, leaving briefs and a tee shirt to sleep in. He knew he needed to sleep and he was still hurting. He reluctantly swallowed the tablets and chased them down with a glass of water. He arranged himself on the bed and smoothed the soft blanket over him. He expected to lie awake as he often did but felt a warm drowsiness steal over him and fell into sleep quickly, his last conscious awareness looking at the shield reflecting the dim glow of the emergency lights that circled the base of the walls.


	16. Chapter 16

He was always fighting in his nightmares. In his childhood it had been fighting sickness and the multiple ailments he suffered from. In the war it had been visible enemies, Nazis and Hydra. Since the ice, super powered robots and aliens had been his opponents. In his nightmares he was always losing. People were dying around him because he just wasn't fast enough or smart enough or just enough. He'd always wake up sweating and gasping and spend the rest of the night avoiding sleep. He didn't need as much as he used to but it affected his concentration if he didn't sleep. And that made the nightmares, when he did finally fall asleep that much worse.  
Steve was back in Brno. Vrana stood over him, grinning as he adjusted the knife in his hand. “You think we don't know?” Vrana's voice was low and tinged with amusement. “Anyone could see what you are. You have always wanted him. Wanted to be more than his friend. Well, he'll never want you so I may as well entertain myself.”  
Steve thrashed and struggled but the rape was the same, the remembered pain and humiliation. The eyes of the guards on him. And Bucky entering the room and then turning his back, leaving him there. He screamed for him to come back, long wailing cries that hurt his throat. He struggled against the hands that tried to tighten the restraints and woke on yet another scream to find the hands holding him belonged to the one person he wanted to see most and, at the same time, couldn't bear to see right now. Bucky was sitting on the side of the bed, holding his forearms and speaking quietly.  
“You awake now? That was a helluva nightmare, Steve. Might have heard that one all the way back in Brooklyn.” Bucky let his arms go and sat back a bit. He passed him a bottle of water and watched as he drank. “You were screaming and yelling. Friday woke me up when she couldn't wake you.” Bucky seemed to have accepted the AI as a fact of life and appeared unfazed by it's ubiquitous presence.  
“Did I say anything?” Steve finally managed to choke out.  
“Nothing much,” Bucky responded. “My name a few times but nothing else intelligible. I'll listen if you want to talk about it.”  
Steve shook his head and pasted on a smile, the one he privately called his public appearance smile. “Nah, just a stupid nightmare.” He knew without looking Bucky wasn't buying it. Maybe a part of the truth would be enough. “Was back in Brno. Guess I wasn't as over it as I wanted to think.” He risked a glance. Bucky was eyeing him with some degree of suspicion but then smiled gently and nodded.  
“So since we're both up, how about breakfast?” Bucky jerked his head toward the door.  
“Not real hungry. Might take a walk?” Steve was seriously hoping this would be enough and he wouldn't need to answer any more questions. He stood as he spoke putting an end to the conversation. He didn't have the heart to look back and see the disappointment.


	17. Chapter 17

Steve had walked through the accessible corridors twice. Some areas were card access, labs or other research areas. He found the dining hall again and was sipping coffee when Genevieve appeared. She didn't seem to notice him and spoke briefly to the cook on duty. He left and she turned around leaning against the counter and spied Steve. She raised her hand and walked over.  
“Not usually anyone else up this time of the morning,” she commented.  
Dragging his attention from his coffee, Steve endeavored to project appropriate politeness. “So where are you off to so early?”  
“Oh gonna see my man.” She smiled. “Greg's making me a picnic and I'll hike over to the village. Roy's in charge of the restoration project.” When Steve just looked puzzled, she continued. “The island was abandoned around 1930. Nobody lives here anymore but the old village on the southwest of the island has a long term preservation plan. Workers come every year and shore up and replace what needs replacement. Roy is doing this as a project for his doctoral candidates. He drags them out here and makes them actually work with their hands. Something most historians never do.”  
“If someone wanted to walk around the island, where is there to go?” Steve had a sudden urge to be outside of the confines of these walls.  
“You have your phone?” When Steve nodded, Genevieve tilted her head up, a gesture many used when speaking to the resident AI. “Friday, please upload the material tagged as Island Highlights to Captain Rogers' phone.”  
“Accomplished,” Friday responded as a beep confirmed the transfer of the data.  
Seeing her picnic was ready, Genevieve walked back to the counter. She accepted the insulated bag, hauling the strap over one shoulder. Turning back she raised one finger. “By the way, be careful of Auld Clootie.” She giggled at the expression on his face. “Nickname for the devil. And he is that. Wicked crooked horns he has.” With a cheery wave, she turned and was out the door.  
Steve asked Gregory for a package of sandwiches and some water. He was handed a smaller version of the pack Genevieve had received. He asked directions from Friday and found his way to the exit and within a few minutes was climbing the metal stairs up the cliff face, He reached the top and blinked into early morning sunshine. The air was cool and fresh. He stood for a moment and then struck off to the left, following the shoreline.


	18. Chapter 18

Steve could cover ground quickly but that wasn't the purpose here. He had to figure out what to do. He kept a good pace, occasionally consulting the map provided with the data on his phone. The day was clear and comfortably cool. The ground was rocky but certainly no obstacle to him. He decided to see if he could walk around the island, at least as far as the village. He planned to cut around that and walk to the southwest edge of the bay it was situated on. The exercise gradually settled him. Letting his muscles instead of his mind work for awhile was calming. He eventually found a place to stop. A broad flat stone offered a seat and he broke out one of the sandwiches and a bottle of water. He unwrapped his splint and tested his wrist again. Close to healed he judged. He decided to leave the bandaging off. He finished his food and tucked his arms around his knees, staring at the bleak but beautiful scenery.  
Of course as soon as he settled his mind insisted on betraying him. He'd wanted badly to tell Bucky the truth. He deserved to hear it. Deserved to know how Steve felt. He had no name for the feelings he had all those years ago. He knew men certainly had encounters with other men but he'd never seen anything that made him think the sort of overwhelming love he felt was part of that. His sudden immersion in 21st century culture had given him a better understanding of what his feelings meant and that he wasn't unique.  
But Bucky didn't want that. He'd never given any sign that the loyalty and love he felt for Steve was in any way physical, or heaven help him, romantic. And now... He never would. Steve had nothing to offer any one. The ridiculous persona he showed the world was a fake. The person under all the hype was not worth the effort. He'd always known that. Doubly true now. Nobody would want him after that. He was about to resume his walk, sick of his own self loathing, when he heard something. He saw a few small stones come tumbling past him and looked up the slight slope. He frowned at the apparition before him. The animal was a dark reddish brown with oddly shaped amber eyes and wicked curved horns that circled around either side of his head. Steve estimated he might weigh 80 pounds or so and he was staring at him with a definite intent, head slightly lowered and with one front hoof pawing at the ground. With no other warning, the beast charged at him. Steve darted sideways and found himself running in circles trying to reach his supply bag. The damned beast hooked a horn into it and tossed it sideways and charged him again. Steve wasn't about to be outsmarted by this amped up whatever it was. He scrambled around the stone seat and grabbed the strap only to be knocked flying as the evil thing circled behind him and butted him, lifting it's forequarters up and heaving it's whole body forward. He rolled, retaining his grip on the strap, and got his feet under him. Leaving his opponent to claim victory, he backed away, finally resuming his walk while the creature shook it's head as if in dismissal and walked off in the opposite direction.  
Finally out of sight of his adversary he did what he ruefully concluded he should have done earlier. He consulted his phone. A perusal of the information on the island revealed something he should have read sooner. The native fauna included a herd of Pre-Roman Soay sheep. Even more of interest were the various personal encounters by some of the research staff with a particular representative of the breed – a ram they referred to as Auld Clootie who was known to be resentful of human intrusion into his domain. Apparently Steve had just been bested by St. Kilda's version of the devil. He spotted an alert for several text messages but felt in no way ready to deal with them. He was skirting the outer edges of the village and was relieved to note that the restoration workers were all down at the edge nearest the bay. He headed for the landmark at the horn that marked the edge of the bay, planning to stop there for another sandwich.  
The walk was good for him. His arm was feeling better and he was using it more, deliberately flexing and testing it to improve the mobility. He had read about the doorway shaped stone structure in the file. It was called the Mistress Stone. The associated legend was that the young men of the island would lean through the doorway and out over the sea in a very precarious way and thus prove their worth for the young lady of their choice. It was a pretty sort of fairy tale conceit. It would have appealed to his romantic streak at one time. He settled to eat another sandwich and found the isolation soothing. There was a constant whisper of wind and the carrying sounds from the workers in the village and a variety of birdsongs. The sun was comfortable on his shoulders and he pulled out a notebook, testing the control of his right hand with some sketches. The stones on the rise, silhouetted against a blue sky quickly took shape on the page. He was in the act of reaching for his water bottle when movement caught his attention. The remains of his sandwich had attracted another native of the island. A tiny mouse was nibbling at the edge of a crust and sliding it and the waxed paper way. Steve turned a page as quietly as he could and sketched the little sneak. Once it departed, he readied his pencil and rendered a drawing of his evil opponent, complete with his curling horns and a cartoonishly menacing expression. Packing his trash back in the bag, he headed roughly west again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I promised sheep. Soay sheep are indeed native to the island and are quite athletic. They are nobody's pushovers. Have a look at the ancestors of our modern fluffy white sheep. These guys are small, tough and don't need people around to manage them.  
> http://soaysheep.biology.ed.ac.uk/meet-sheep


	19. Chapter 19

Mid afternoon brought him back to the landing. The entrance was already above water and he watched a party of three coming back from the direction he had departed in that morning. The two young women and an even younger man were holding an animated conversation about some local plant life. They waved at him absently, continuing to converse as they hurried down the steps to the landing. He followed at a slightly slower pace. He lingered on the beach until he could have the lift to himself. Friday greeted him. “I trust you have had a pleasant excursion, Captain. May I suggest you contact Mr. Wilson or Sgt. Barnes and apprise them of your return. They were somewhat concerned about you until I made them aware that you had followed Miss Genevieve's suggestion and had taken a lunch with you.”  
The lift stopped at the cafeteria level and Steve made a side trip to drop off the pack, removing his pencil and notebook. He poured coffee from the service next to the counter and took the covered cup with him. He headed back to the section where they had been assigned rooms. “Where are they now, Friday?”  
“In the lounge area, Sir. Take the next left turn and the room is the third on the right.”  
Pausing outside the indicated door, he found Bucky and Sam in comfortable chairs facing a large open port, the thick plexiglass showing sunlit water and passing fish. The third figure was a pleasant surprise. “Bruce,” Steve exclaimed. He advanced into the room. “When did you get in?” He found a seat on a small sofa. Banner gave his customary shy smile.  
“It's good to see you too. I got in this morning, while you had apparently gone walkabout. I hitched a ride over with an old university colleague.”  
“The village restoration? Your friend's name wouldn't be Roy, would it?”  
Tony chose this moment to enter the room, wandering past with a cup of coffee and a tablet in either hand. “Ah. Cap demonstrates psychic abilities in addition to being the world's oldest frisbee champ.”  
Shaking his head at the usual Tony antics, Steve responded, “No psychic abilities necessary. Ran into Genevieve this morning and she mentioned her guy was heading the contingent over at the village.” Having apparently exhausted his need for conversation, Tony retreated to the ledge under the port, becoming engrossed in whatever he was reading, sweeping his finger across the suface of the tablet in quick impatient movements.  
“Somebody else came in this morning,” Sam ventured. “Wanda and a friend.” Steve felt a flicker of something close to apprehension.  
Bucky cleared his throat. “Her name is Uwase Kwizera. You may want to meet her.”  
Bruce suddenly leaned forward, his entire body language displaying excitement. “Doctor Kwizera is here?”  
“You know her?” Bucky frowned, a bit puzzled.  
“If it's the same woman, she's Wakanda's national treasure. She has five doctorates and has been published everywhere. The psych department in Wakanda's largest university is named for her. She founded it and still holds the chair there. She's the world's foremost expert in psychoneuroendocrine interaction.”  
Bucky shrugged. “She may be that but she's also a lousy bartender and utterly fearless. There are not many people who would look at the stuff in my head and not run screaming.”  
A rich chuckle greeted that pronouncement. “And a very pretty head it is, child.” The woman who entered was ancient and ageless at the same time, dressed in a flowing silky jacket over dark trousers. Her face was smooth and the color of good coffee. Sharp eyes assessed the world and her face was used to laughter. Her hair was pure white and cropped in close curls that displayed the classical perfection of her bones and left one with an impression of timeless beauty. Steve was immediately captured by an impulse to see if his art could capture this essence.  
She walked easily and confidently up to the group and shocked everyone completely by placing a strong hand on Bucky's shoulder and dropping a kiss on the top of his head. He rose from his seat and hugged her. Tony dropped his tablet. Nobody else commented. The formerly dangerous assassin dropped crosslegged to the floor and leaned back against the chair as Dr. Kwizera seated herself.  
“Well, gentlemen. You all seem to know me. I am at a bit of a loss. The only one I know here is umwana waniye.” Bucky looked up at her at the term and smiled in a sweet uncomplicated way that Steve was quite sure he hadn't seen since before the war.  
Bucky indicated the seat to his right. “This is Sam Wilson. The gentleman right across is Dr. Bruce Banner.” A pronounced fake throat clearing from the window seat led Bucky to gesture. “That is Tony Stark.” Bucky met Steve's eyes. “And this is Steve Rogers.”  
The woman acknowledged the introductions but fixed her gaze on Steve. He had a sudden feeling that she knew a good deal more about him than he was comfortable with. He excused himself and left the group speaking about Wakanda and the work being done in the labs here. He retreated to his room, carefully closing the door and feeling puzzled and suspicious. How had this woman managed to create such a rapport with Bucky that he was completely comfortable with her? And how much of what happened to him had Bucky shared?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. Because of the holiday, I had a lot to do and was busy with some heavy housecleaning besides. But I am working on getting this monster done. I have arbitrarily decided that one of the languages used in Rwanda would be also used in Wakanda. Please excuse me if the translations are poor.


	20. Chapter 20

There were no nightmares. Not surprising since there was no sleep. Eventually Steve grew tired of staring at the walls and having that damned suit staring at him, empty cowl dangling forward off the hanger. Empty was a good description. Even when the suit was worn, it was just a surface image. Fed up, he edged out the door and wandered down to the dining area. He was almost done adding cream to his coffee when a soft voice interrupted his meager thoughts. He was more than startled. How the hell had someone managed to get this close without him being aware of them? He turned to see the woman he had met so briefly earlier in the evening.  
“May I call you Steven?” she asked. “Titles seem overly formal in the middle of the night.” The doctor poured some tea and added honey. “You left very suddenly earlier. I had the impression that you were not pleased I was here.”  
“It's not you, Ma'am...Doctor...” Steve floundered, unsure what was correct form for rejecting help that hadn't even been properly offered.  
“Please, my name is Uwase.” She smiled gently.  
“Uwase, then. It's not you. I was bothered that you were asked to come before anyone asked me if I wanted to talk to you. I told Bucky I would, eventually but I don't think I'm ready.”  
“Walk with me.” She placed a hand delicately on his elbow and he found himself drawn along. “Your friends, particularly my pretty one, are concerned for you. He told me you might be angry at him but he would risk that if I could help you find some peace. He told me only that you were troubled. He revealed no secrets.”  
They were at the elevator and the door opened at the top. Steve was startled to see it was still a soft twilight. A pat on his arm drew him back. “We are very far north here and I am told that this time of the year the day extends itself.” She led the way down the beach to a spot where someone had built a fire. It only smoldered now. Steve dragged up some driftwood and coaxed the embers back to a tolerable blaze. He turned to find his companion had seated herself on a stone and was watching the surf. “I find beaches strange,” she mused. “We have nothing like this in Wakanda. And then I reflect that all waters are one and it seems like an old friend.”  
Steve had settled on the ground near her. He looked into the fire and finally asked, “What makes you think that you can help me, or even that I need help beyond what you've been told?”  
“The second question is easier.” Her voice was warm and held a hint of amusement. “I am the daughter and granddaughter of midwives and herb women. I have five children, sixteen grandchildren and three great grandchildren and will likely have a fourth by the time I return home. I knew when help was needed long before I attained all those degrees. All they have done is add tools to my basket. The healer was always there. As to whether I can help you, I can only tell you that heartache is as old as mankind. The details vary but the pain is the same. It is what I do, heal the hurt.” She examined his face in the odd northern twilight and the glow of the fire. “You are used to hiding I think.”  
“I'm always out there in the public eye,” he protested.  
“That is the hero, the image. The man inside remains hidden, I think.” She nodded to herself. “The hurts too are hidden. There is one very recent that has so alarmed your friends and then there are much older ones.” There was silence for a bit. Steve listened to the waves rattling over the gravel and shingle. Her voice resumed, quiet and relentless as the waves. “We are the sum of all we have been before. I am not the same pretty girl who was 'her father's hope' but that child lives here and I know all her hopes and hurts.” She tapped her chest then reached forward and touched him in the same place. “Who lives here?”  
Shaking his head, Steve looked at the finger resting lightly over his heart and then closed his eyes. “I remember someone saying a very long time ago 'a good man'. I'm pretty sure that's not true and maybe never was.” Silence stretched for long moments but there was no rejection or contest of his statement, just listening that was oddly comforting. He was reminded of going to confession when he was younger, and speaking into that listening quiet and feeling lighter when he was done. “I used to think I knew what being good meant. Simple things like standing up against bullies and being honest with everyone.” Getting no direction but feeling acceptance of what he had shared so far, Steve continued. “It's hard to figure out who the bullies are anymore. It's put me on the wrong side too often.”  
Finally Uwase spoke. “You feel very strongly about that.” It was not a question.  
Steve thought carefully and finally said with whatever certainty he could still feel, “I resent being maneuvered into fighting the same battles and finding both sides fighting dirty.”  
“You speak of your experiences in the war and the struggles since, the one that brought you to Wakanda.” The doctor was watching him, eyes bright and interested.  
Steve nodded. “I thought I was done with Hydra but the evil it represents keeps cropping up. And it takes so much to keep fighting.”  
“But that is what friends are for, to help pulling weeds. They keep cropping up between the melons but you can't get rid of the melon patch so you get help weeding.” The homey metaphor had Steve imagining her at home with a garden in the back of her house. “What about the honesty?” she asked with her direct gaze almost forcing him to meet it.  
Steve shuddered. So many secrets. He wasn't aware at first he was crying. Few things in his adult life had wrung tears from him. His mother's death and Bucky's presumed death. He sat still, unable to stop them or explain them. He felt a slender arm pull him closer and her warm voice soothed him. “Cry, child. Tears are good for you.” An unfamiliar melody tickled at his awareness. She was humming what had to be a lullaby. He thought he should feel calmer but the storm still raged.  
“You don't understand what they did!” Anger at himself and at his enemies made his voice venomous.  
“They hurt you,” she responded, calm as she had been all along, accepting and somehow absorbing the anger.  
“They raped me!” he all but shouted and collapsed against her. She allowed him to stay like that for awhile weeping for his losses. Lost family, lost friends, lost innocence. She finally brushed his hair back and lifted his chin.  
“You see? You told me and the world hasn't shifted and I am still here. Telling me cannot make it worse. I have heard many tales. Wakanda is at peace but many of our neighbors are often not so fortunate. This sort of thing happens all too often and I have helped many sufferers find the meaning of it in their lives.”  
Steve lowered his gaze and began to speak, the story flowing out like pus from a festering wound. And Uwase held onto him through it all, rocking him gently and watching the last long lived light drain from the sky, allowing the darkness to cradle them both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay. I was a bit stunned by the events of this week. Finally decided that the best way to deal with the insanity of the real world was to delve back into my fantasy one. Better people all around anyway.


	21. Chapter 21

Steve actually slept. After the tempest of emotion he was surprised to look at the clock and see the time 0630 and realize he had slept for almost four hours. He showered quickly. The bruises had faded and the other injuries had healed over. His arm seemed as strong as ever. He dressed and headed for the dining hall. He found Wanda and Bucky eating pancakes and drinking coffee. He grabbed a tray and joined them. Wanda smiled and kissed his cheek. Bucky looked at his pancakes and said nothing.  
“The two of you are off the hook,” Steve finally said before stuffing a large bite of pancake in his mouth and chewing with some satisfaction as Bucky lifted his head and stared. Steve swallowed the mouthful and continued. “The doctor is a fine lady and I know why you brought her and it really is OK.”  
“You talked with her last night?” Bucky questioned cautiously.  
“For quite awhile. She's easy to talk to.” Apparently satisfied for the moment, Bucky returned to his breakfast.  
Bruce wandered in about fifteen minutes later. He grabbed a cup of tea and some oatmeal, dousing the latter with honey and currants, before joining them and exchanging good mornings. “Tony thought we might meet this morning and start discussing some plans. Everyone up for that?”  
He had made the statement general but Steve was a bit sensitive to the implication he might not be ready for anything. He was about to say something when Bucky answered with another question. “Is everyone here?”  
Bruce took a sip of his tea. “I was in Tony's lab earlier. Apparently, Natasha snuck in early this morning. Barton and Vision are on the morning supply plane. They'll get here in about 45 minutes. Tony suggested a sit down might be good to get all the information out and get ideas how to proceed.”  
“When?” Bucky asked.  
“Around 9 or so. There's a private and secure conference room next to the lab. I have a feeling Natasha has some new intelligence for us. I already caught Wilson earlier. He was off early to 'catch some thermals' he said.”  
Steve liked the idea of Sam taking the morning to enjoy the uncomplicated exhilaration of flying again. He wished there was something like that for him. The conversation last night had brought out so much pain and left him relieved about much of it. The pain was still there but it had distance finally, perspective. According to the good doctor, that might be a fluid thing. He could expect to feel better some days and others might be full of hideous recollections. And there was still the one thing he hadn't touched on, the one secret he still couldn't share. The man he sat across from made inconsequential conversation with Wanda and remained oblivious to Steve's conflict. He loved him and couldn't tell him. Bucky had been through so much and shouldn't have to cope with Steve's damage. When they were younger, he had never dared to put a name to it. Now that he could, he had nothing much to offer the man. Bucky had dealt with enough. He didn't need Steve's baggage. When Bucky looked at him and jerked his head toward the lab, Steve gave a faint half smile and followed his lead.  
The conference room was what you would expect of a Stark, even in the small confines available. The table was sleek and concealed all sorts of visual display options. The chairs were plush and ergonomic. The lighting was indirect and subtle. There were no windows and the only doors were secure hatches to the corridor and the lab.  
Bucky scanned the arrangements quickly and grabbed a seat with a view of both doors. Steve settled to his right. They were only there a few moments when Natasha and Barton entered, trailed by Wanda. Natasha looked more tired than Steve could ever remember seeing her. She gave him a smile and took the seat to Bucky's left with Barton on her other side. Wanda perched on a corner of the counter that ran down the wall to the right of the hall hatch. Sam entered a little later, an air of relaxation pervading him. He sank into the chair to Steve's right after grabbing a cup from the coffee service on Wanda's counter. The lab door opened and Bruce herded Tony into the room, Vision phasing through the wall. He joined Wanda and Bruce took one of the remaining seats. Tony remained standing and fidgeted with his ubiquitous protein tumbler. He studied the flawlessly gleaming table top for a bit before raising his head to scan the room.  
“None of us came out of that mess from the Sokovia Accords undamaged,” he began. “All of us got hurt one way or another. The truth is we were duped badly by elements of our own government, concealed deep cover Hydra operatives. Most of you have heard parts of this. I'm gonna let Natasha give the whole picture. We need to get everyone the same information to start with and then we are going to need everyone's effort to try and fix this because I, for one, am pissed that these bastards tried to tear the only family I have left apart.” He sank into the remaining chair at the table and tossed a small remote to Natasha.  
Fielding the tiny device, Natasha clicked up a holographic display that floated above the table. “In the mid sixties, then Major Thaddeus Ross was an officer with a great future career mapped out. He attracted the attention of a General Burkhardt and his progress after that was even more impressive. Burkhardt headed a secret division in the Pentagon. So secret it didn't even have a fancy acronym and so compartmentalized that Burkhardt was essentially autonomous, isolated from the chain of command. He was in charge of all kinds of projects for technical and biological enhancements and the defenses to combat them. Burkhardt's connections to American industry were legendary but completely unofficial. He was heavily involved with Bolivar Trask until his projects literally crashed and burned. Burkhardt took some heat with the publicity over that and went much more covert after that.” Natasha glanced at Tony briefly before putting up a series of photos and memos. “Burkhardt cultivated Howard Stark deliberately. The memos delineate his interest in Howard's work with the SSR as well as a fascination with this man.” The next display was one that made Bucky tense. “Arnim Zola was part of the group of scientific minds recruited in Operation Paperclip. We have data that shows Burkhardt put Ross in charge of building Zola's cyborg interface. Ross signed off on the construction and worked through multiple off shore accounts to pay the contractors. The design was Zola's and Stark's. According to the records in Burkhardt's and Ross's correspondence, Stark was given access to Zola's information on his work with Schmidt. He gave him what he knew about Erskine's work. He also corresponded with Russian scientists about related work. So far as we can tell, he was not aware of what specifically was being done with that data. But there were materials from Stark Industries in the files kept by Hydra on the Winter Soldier suggesting specific avenues of research to improve the result.”  
Steve felt like he was choking. He'd seen more than he'd wanted to of the horrors Hydra had inflicted on Bucky and the others in that Siberian bunker. He didn't want to believe that Howard, a man he considered a friend, had been a party to that. To his surprise, Bucky was the one who spoke up. “How much did Ross know about the serum?”  
“Apparently everything Stark and Zola had.” Natasha answered. "He was Burkhardt's protege and successor. We suspect that the incident in Harlem was related to him providing a variant of the serum to an officer he had tasked with finding Banner. And we know how that turned out.” She glanced at Bruce as she said this. “Burkhardt retired in the late 80's leaving Ross, now a general, in charge of the department. From communications records we know he was pressing Stark and his partner Stane to engage in further work on the serum. Stane appeared willing but Stark had apparently had enough. This memo is critical.” She enlarged a frame to show a message from Howard Stark to Ross. It was dated December 14, 1991. “It indicates that Howard Stark was unhappy with the direction Ross wanted to take with the research and he wanted out. He tells Ross he will deliver the last of the serum he was working on to Ross within 48 hours. Two days later Howard and Maria were dead.” She clicked another frame. “This is a record of a wire transfer from one of Ross's offshore accounts linked to his department. It's dated the morning of the 15th of December. The money went to a dummy corporation that was a front for Hydra operations in eastern Europe. Ross paid for the hit.” She paused and looked at Tony. “You examined the videotape that Zemo showed you and found it to be faked. The actual assassin was Hydra but not the Winter Soldier. Ross had possession of the latest serum derivative and shipped roughly half of it to the Hydra cell operating out of that bunker. Files there detail how it was used to create new soldiers.”  
Everyone at the table looked stunned by the information they were seeing. Natasha paused and poured some coffee for herself and then switched the screens again. “Ross had sole authority over the stocks of serum in this country. But he knew it was flawed. He made repeated attempts to replicate Erskine's results culminating in his involvement with Bruce's project. When that failed to give him what he wanted, he focused on finding other enhanced individuals. He was frustrated when Steve was found in the Arctic. He had no access to him directly and he had run into Fury before. By all accounts, Fury and he had no use for each other. While Captain America was working for Shield and was in the public eye, Ross couldn't touch him so he set about creating a circumstance where he could. Once he was made Secretary of State, he had the angle he needed. Ross put the idea in Pierce's head to use the Winter Soldier to take out Fury. Shield was destroyed but the Hydra agents within it were debriefed extensively and Ross made sure that information got copied to Hydra. The Sokovia Accords were created on the advice of a Hydra psychologist based on profiles he created of us from that data with the express intent of creating a division. Divide and conquer. Zemo was a dupe, Once he was aware of Zemo's thirst for revenge, Ross planted the video where he was sure Zemo would find it.”  
Natasha looked seriously at Steve and Bucky. “We found a record of his full plan. He wanted the both of you so he could compare the effects of the variants of the serum and figure out how to duplicate it. He wanted to create an army of super soldiers under his control and using the code conditioning that created the Winter Soldier. He was going to use that army to place him at the head of a resurgent Hydra and allow him control over the entire planet.” She tapped a manicured nail on the table. “The one thing that stopped him from succeeding so far was that he apparently didn't connect the Winter Soldier to James Barnes. He didn't know that the connection you two have would damage the conditioning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this one was hard work to get through but here it is. It's long and talky but clarifies my headcanon about how much of a problem Ross is.


	22. Chapter 22

The room was quiet once Natasha had finished speaking. Everyone was digesting the information in whatever way they could. Steve was looking at the last image and felt the anger rising in him at how deeply Ross had damaged the people he cared about. He found himself clenching his fists so hard his nails were digging into his palms. He was startled when Sam was the one to break the silence.  
“Why not just dump all this out there – publicize all of it? It would show him up for the traitor he is.”  
Natasha shook her head. “ Not likely a good move for a couple of reasons. One, the links to him are not as clear cut as we would like. Cumulatively we see the pattern but he could easily discredit the points one at a time. Two, the minute he realizes what's happening, he would make all the data and anything else damning vanish off his files and servers. And three, his resources are too good. Once the information starts getting out, he'll backtrack it and we'd have hell raining down on us. He'd disguise it as an anti terror move.”  
“So what do we do with it? Sam sat with his arms crossed over his chest. “Seriously, we know the man is guilty. There has to be some way to get at him.”  
“We have to make him give himself away,” Wanda quietly offered. “He has to incriminate himself.”  
Steve shook his head. “Not likely when he's spent most of his career under cover. He's made very few mistakes.”  
Natasha's face broke out in an absolutely angelic smile, always a bad sign for anyone on the receiving end of her impressive skills. “We're going after a big fish. We have to use the correct bait. What is the one thing he has always wanted? A working version of the serum and we know from certain exchanges that he intends to make a serious run for the presidency at the next election cycle. As of January, his stint as Secretary is over and he has already formed committees. He intends to run. What he has wanted are serum enhanced Hydra loyal troops to back him. His election would signal the elimination of all opposition and create an effective dictatorship. But he will no longer have the resources of the State Department to back him up after January. We need to hit him then.”  
Bucky was watching her with an expression of amused respect. “You already have a plan in mind, don't you?”  
“The beginning of one, yes. It needs refinement and we will all have to commit to making it succeed. I somehow think we are all ready for that or we wouldn't be here.” She waved the remote and an image of a collapsed tunnel appeared. “This is the initial image of a location supposedly containing a lost Nazi treasure train, gold and art work suspected to have been lost.”  
Bruce and Sam both nodded and Bruce ventured, “There was a great deal of speculation that the contents might include the Amber Room but I think nothing has come of it yet.”  
Wanda stood and approached the table, studying the image with her head cocked to the side. “So if a vague rumor escaped, on social media and such, of a similar find of a Hydra train that might, have a perfected version of the serum in it's manifest...”  
Bruce picked up the thought. “Ross's sources would definitely have that information fed to him. And he would be eager to investigate.”  
Barton interrupted, tapping a finger on the table. “Yeah, but he's familiar enough with the scientific aspects. Won't he be able to spot phony data? He's not gonna stick his neck out for smoke and mirrors.”  
“Which is where my work comes in,” Bruce responds. “Mine and Tony's anyway. We mock up a formula based on the original data I was handed and on Howard Stark's files. We tweak a few molecular changes on paper and make it look plausible. We add a few fuzzy images from inside the 'lost train' showing a structure resembling Stark's original design and we let it leak out just a little at a time via social media and some deep web sources. Smoke and mirrors indeed but with enough substance that Ross will need to see for himself.”  
“ I still don't think he'll out himself over this,” Barton shook his head and sat back.  
“Oh I think he will,” Tony responded with some glee, rubbing his hands together. “He will tell me, or at least he will tell this guy who is me or at any rate is now.” He gestured impatiently at Natasha to pick up the thread pointing at the face now displayed.  
“This is, or was, Jurgen Oberst, a Hydra mid level officer who met an early and fortuitously quiet end about five years ago. He had no family or close friends and was essentially a recluse who was used for clearing information between Hydra stations. Nobody realized he died and Tony set up an AI that continued his work, passing the useful bits along to us as well but with no knowledge by SHIELD and thus no knowledge by any of it's Hydra moles. Ross has corresponded with him electronically and has no reason to suspect he is anything but reliable. We believe he will use Oberst as a source and Oberst will have to ask for information in return so he knows what he's looking for. Eventually Ross will have to go onsite to see for himself and that's when we get him,”  
Steve leaned forward, resting his clasped hands on the table. “This is going to be a long process, a lot of chances for mistakes. But I don't see much of a chance of doing this any other way. We need to stop him. Direct assault is out. I think you're right,” he said looking at his friends around the table. "We need to steal a page out of Hydra's playbook and use planted disinformation and covert approaches to lure him out. He'll expect some opposition but not subtlety. Heaven knows subtle has never been our strong suit.”  
“Speak for yourself, Cap.” Tony leaned in mirroring Steve's pose. “I'm all about the subtle.”  
There was silence for a beat or two and then the snickers started, beginning with Barton and ending with Banner removing his glasses to wipe tears of laughter away as Tony raised his hands in mock affront. Vision just looked a bit puzzled. Natasha clicked the displays off and ended the meeting. The group exited in ones and twos, leaving Steve, Natasha and Bucky at the table. “That's solid work,” Bucky complimented. “The idea should work if we're patient enough.”  
Natasha shrugged. “I wouldn't have raised the idea if I didn't have confidence we could rely on each other. We may be the only ones who could make it work. Because everyone here has lost to that man at least once and none of us are going to let it happen again.” She turned and left the room.  
Steve stared at the table for a bit longer and startled a little when Bucky laid a hand on his shoulder. “Enjoy the break, Steve. We've got time before this all comes together and the waiting can be a blessing and a curse. This is not the worst situation I've ever had to wait in – at least the food and the company is good.” Steve pushed up from his chair and followed Bucky out of the room, wondering how he was going to manage to wait long enough for the plan to come together. He didn't relish the idea of downtime. Too much time to think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter kicked my butt. It took forever to block it out in my head and longer to get the exposition to make any sense. But here it is and I am happy to get some more of my ideas down on paper.


	23. Chapter 23

Bucky disappeared after lunch and Steve wasn't sure if he was regretful or grateful. He craved his company but was always anxious that Bucky, who had always read him too easily, would be able to see more than he wanted to reveal. Finding himself at a loss and tense after the meeting that morning, Steve wandered outside again. A little way down the beach he spotted Tony speaking animatedly into a headset and gesticulating upwards in broad sweeps of movement. Following the motion, Steve spied Sam, circling over the cliffs, diving and swooping in aerobatic patterns. He almost waved but reconsidered, thinking that distracting them might not be a good idea. He struck off in the opposite direction. He found himself at his stopping point of the previous day. He looked around suspiciously but saw no sign of his horned nemesis so he settled on the sun warmed rock and began to draw. He had been there for a little while when he heard a soft footfall behind him. “Good afternoon, Uwase.”  
She chuckled and clambered up to sit near him. “You have sharp ears.” She looked over his shoulder and nodded. “You also have a good eye.” Steve fought the impulse to shut the small sketchbook. The page showed an image of Bucky with a slightly pensive look he had worn at lunch. Uwase took the book carefully and drew out a pair of folding spectacles from a pocket. She examined the sketch closely for several minutes. “So, why have you not told him?”  
Steve pretended ignorance. “Told him what? He knows almost everything about me.”  
She handed the book back with a pointed look at him over the lenses of her glasses. “That you love him,” she replied bluntly, “or, more accurately, that you are in love with him.”  
Eyes closed, Steve sat for several long moments. Finally he spoke. “I can't.”  
Uwase's voice was gentle but relentless. “You choose not to.”  
Steve acknowledged the way his throat tightened at the thought. “I'm afraid to.”  
Uwase pursed her lips and nodded. “Progress. You know what holds you back. What are you afraid of? Is he likely to be angry or to laugh at you?”  
Steve was shocked at the suggestion. “No, of course not. But it would change things between us. He doesn't feel the same way.”  
“If you are so afraid to speak of it, how do you know? You say you know each other so well. Does he know what you feel as you seem to know what he does not?”  
“But neither of us were raised that way. Today is so different.” Steve was floundering a bit, all his prior objections seeming suddenly flimsy in the face of this woman's confident and direct questions. “How are you so calm about it anyway?” he questioned in return.  
“You think I don't know about love because I am old or about two men because I am a woman?” She laughed, head thrown back and brought her hands to either side of his face and shook him. “Young people are so blind. They think all their troubles are new to the world. I will tell you a story I think.” She settled back, sitting cross legged and her face seemed ageless as she continued. “My mother had seven children, six of whom lived long enough to give her joy in her old age. I was the youngest. When I was 8 or 9 there was a great festival and everyone in the surrounding towns came to ours. There was feasting and stories and music and dancing. Now my second eldest brother was a very handsome and gifted young man. He was big and strong and sang his own songs and he danced so beautifully. I remember sitting with my mother and watching as he circled the fire with the light gleaming off his skin and all the people admiring him, knowing he must pick a partner just as wonderful. I think all the girls were hoping he would choose them. He came to a stop finally and held out his hand to the most lovely young boy. He was grace to my brother's strength and he was so shy. My brother just smiled down at him and waited. He had to wait a long while before the cheering of the crowd made the boy look up. When he finally put his hand up to meet my brother's my mother laughed and clapped her hands for joy at how lovely they were together. I saw them later, embracing out of range of the torchlight. My brother and his beloved live about a mile from the house my husband built for me. They teach music and dance and have loved each other all their lives. My children adore their uncles. So I know love is it's own reason. And love of a man for another is as old as humankind.”  
Steve felt a wistful longing. If he and Bucky had not been separated by war and so many years, would they have been able to grow old together? Wakanda seemed to have had a different view than the US all those years ago. But still, he had a recollection of the two men who ran the pawn shop and shared the apartment over it. He had heard whispers about them but nobody in the neighborhood gossiped like that. They were generous in terms and helped a lot of people make it to payday when money was short. And they always had candy for the neighborhood kids at Christmas. He remembered suddenly how someone from five streets over had once made a comment about fairies and Bucky had stepped up to the guy and fisted his hands at his sides and said, very softly, “They're our neighbors and they don't bother nobody. Now shut your trap before I have to.” The idiot had enough of a brain to walk away quietly.  
“Okay,” Steve said finally. “He probably won't hit me or laugh at me but he sure would see me differently.”  
“But you are both different from what you were. No person remains unchanged by life.”  
Steve felt a sudden small surge of hope in the midst of his misery but it ebbed in the face of his next thought. His shoulders curled in and he hung his head. “I could tell him and it would probably be okay. But what's the point? Even if he did want me, I'm not sure I could ever, I mean...” He trailed off helplessly.  
“You think you will never be ready to be sexual again?” The question made him blush. He could never deal well with this sort of conversation. It seemed he might have to with this lady. She was a damned force of nature. She made it worse. “So little imagination! There are so many ways to be sexy with a lover. He does not seem to be the type to push for something you will not be comfortable with.”  
His face was a brilliant red. He could feel the heat of it. “But what happened to me, I know people do that. What's wrong that it hurt me so much?”  
“Nothing wrong with you. Our bodies have places that are meant to feel good but too rough a touch by someone uncaring and the pleasure never happens.” She frowned for a moment then pulled a very shiny new Stark pad from a pocket. Her wardrobe had more damned hiding places in it. She grinned widely at the look he gave the object. “The man wishes people to like him and he thinks gifts will help. I like him anyway but the gifts are so useful.” As she spoke, she quickly swiped through screens and paused several times, shaking her head briefly. Finally she exclaimed “Ha! There it is. Where is your phone?” He held it out and she tapped a few more times and his phone beeped cheerily. “When you have time alone, watch that. It is a film of two men, long time lovers I think. They show what it is like to care for each others pleasure. See if it makes you feel anything. Then we will talk again.” Steve glanced at the link in his phone. “You sent me...” he choked on the word.  
She smiled, a wicked knowing smile. “Porn is the modern term. You might have called it a blue movie. Consider it homework.”  
He looked bemusedly at his phone. “Let's hope Tony isn't tracking my internet. I'll never live it down.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope people like Uwase. I envision her as a sort of Wakandan Dr. Ruth, practical and easy to understand.


	24. Chapter 24

The video would have to wait. Steve told himself he was not avoiding it. He was focusing on his team, trying to restore a sense of normalcy for them. He knocked at the door of the lab and received an absent sounding reply that he took, optimistically, for permission to enter. Tony was studying the readout from a meter and tapping a screwdriver on the table. He must have known Steve had entered because he addressed his AI. “Friday, music off, please.” The speakers, that had been blasting rock, went silent. “What's up, Cap?”  
Steve settled one hip on the corner of a lab table. “I was thinking about getting the team together for an evening, not a strategy meeting, just a meal and some time to decompress and catch up. Truthfully I'm curious about what everyone else has been doing and how we all ended up here. What do you think?”  
“Great idea,” Tony agreed. “The kitchen staff can handle it. Maybe a cookout, on the beach. Big spread. Steak, burgers, the whole nine yards. Yeah, I'll get it started.” Before Steve could say another word, Tony was off in full Stark mode, calling the kitchen and asking for the supervisor. Steve shook his head, pretty sure his presence had been forgotten in the rush of ideas Tony was transmitting to the kitchens. He left, closing the door quietly. At loose ends, he wandered to the gym. To his surprise the room was already occupied.  
Bucky was moving through a series of postures Steve thought might be a form of Tai Chi but done with considerably more athletic effort. He watched from the doorway. Bucky had always been strong and, except for a brief few months in his teens, coordinated. This was levels above that. He was wearing snug fitting trousers and a black shirt without sleeves. His hair was still longer than Steve was used to and was pulled back in a short neat tail. He was sweating slightly and had obviously been here awhile. As Steve watched, mesmerized, Bucky moved from a handstand to a pose that left his body bent at the hips, with hands and feet on the floor, facing down. He gradually shifted his body sideways, ending with his right arm supporting his torso, left arm pointing up and legs together. Steve should not have been shocked when Bucky addressed him. He was, after all, facing the door. “Just gonna stand there all day?” Bucky's voice was steady and controlled as he continued the arc of movement, going back to the all fours position before standing and rotating backwards to another handstand then shoulder rolling forward to come back to his feet.  
Steve's normally slow and even pulse was racing and his mouth had gone dry. He managed to force himself to step in and behave normally. He tossed Bucky a towel and made a point of examining the rest of the room and it's equipment. “Nice setup. A bit typically Stark.”  
“Thought it was actually pretty tasteful myself. Not completely over the top the way a lot of his stuff is. Of course this place is intended to do actual work.” Bucky had hung the towel around his neck and was holding onto the ends. Steve kept looking and having to look away. He fought down the urge to pull Bucky nearer with that towel and...not happening. He caught an odd questioning look in Bucky's eyes and covered hastily.  
“I suggested a team dinner and Tony immediately ran with the idea. A cook out on the beach was what I heard as he picked up the phone and started planning.”  
“Made himself as hard to talk to as you've been lately?” Bucky watched him with a raised eyebrow. “I know I told you to talk to Dr. Kwizera but I kinda hoped you'd catch up with me too.” In anyone else the tone might have been called wistful.  
“Got time now.” The words escaped before Steve could stop them. He truly did want to talk to Bucky. There was so much to be said. But his feelings were way too close to the surface for this to be safe.  
Bucky grabbed his water bottle and nudged Steve's shoulder. “Come on. I'll shower and we'll go topside. Haven't been up there yet.”  
Steve followed along still unsure if he should be risking this but not seeing the alternative. He wondered how long it would be before Bucky asked him a question that had an answer he wasn't ready to give.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this short but I was waylaid by a drabble about a christmas tree. It's all my boyfriend's fault.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short one only but I was distracted writing something else this weekend.

They headed topside, as Steve had discovered the lab personnel referred to it. They walked a little bit away from the entrance. The day was overcast but the forecast was for clearing later. The weather here was quite changeable. They wandered over to a huge piece of gray and ancient driftwood and sat watching the waves wash up and back over the gravel a few yards away.  
“You do know I'm not prying, right?” Bucky said as they sat down.  
“I know. And I am talking to Dr. Kwizera.” Steve replied.  
“I hope you don't call her that,” Bucky chuckled. “She hates formality and might just pinch you if you keep doing it.”  
“Voice of experience?” Steve guessed. Bucky nodded ruefully. “What did she call you that first night?”  
“It's umwana waniye. It means my child but has a very affectionate connotation. She more or less adopted me. She basically kidnapped me from the palace and took me home with her.” Steve stared in disbelief. “Yeah, she has this absolutely fearless belief in herself and the people she chooses to care about. I tried to tell her I was dangerous. She laughed at me and said living was dangerous and she didn't intend to give that up anytime soon.”  
“I'm glad she helped you and I am really glad you asked her to come. Talking to her is helping.”  
“I was a little worried. I thought you were pissed at me. If I had gotten to Brno sooner..”  
“Hell no, Buck. Anyway, you always call me out on feeling guilty about something I can't change. Same applies to you. Don't second guess it. You got me out alive and they're all dead.” Steve felt a sudden surge of bloodthirsty satisfaction at the thought. “That helps some, knowing they're not breathing anymore.”  
“Good, cause I miss you. It's about time I got my best friend back. We both deserve it after what we've been through. Life finally handed us something good.”  
“Becoming a philosopher, Barnes?” Steve smiled as he said it, feeling the ease between them.  
“You know I can't even spell that, Stevie.” Bucky snorted derisively. He slung his right arm over Steve's shoulder and pulled him closer. Steve tensed briefly and then relaxed. The position just felt comfortable. They sat for an hour listening to the waves and watching the sky clear. Steve was ultimately going to have to tell Bucky what was going through his head but he was reassured now that Bucky was not going run when he did. They'd known each other too long and gone through too much to lose each other over this. He had calmed down enough now to realize that. If he told him and the feeling wasn't returned, at least it would no longer be a secret between him. Bucky always had been aware of Steve keeping something from him. The bigger problem was if he did feel something more. Steve wasn't at all sure he could handle anything physical. He remembered the video link Uwase had given him. He had to find time to watch it and see what it made him feel.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beach cookouts and catching up with friends.

The weather was clear and pleasant for the evening. Tony was enthusiastically annoying the kitchen staff as they set up tables, a couple of grills and coolers. The staff were, wisely, ignoring him. Steve arrived in time to see Bucky snag Bruce by the sleeve and say something to him quietly. Bruce looked over at Tony and nodded his head. As Bucky turned around and saw Steve, Bruce lured Tony away with some apparently interesting bit of science, ensuring the staff would be able to actually get food to them before next spring.  
The cookout was relaxed and enjoyable once Tony was persuaded to let the kitchen staff do the jobs they were admirably equipped to do. Steve settled at one of the tables with a plate full of excellent steak and a mountain of potato salad in front of him. Bucky came up behind him with a plate in his right hand and two long necked beer bottles between the fingers of his left. He had also opted for the steak and had paired it with some pasta salad. He sat, cracked open the beers with his prosthetic fingers and took an appreciative sip of one, placing the other next to Steve's plate. He sliced off a piece of steak and examined it critically before putting it in his mouth and chewing. Steve grinned at the expression of pleasure on his face. “You look like you just discovered the secret of the universe.”  
“Steve, that is, without a doubt, the best steak I have ever eaten.” He scooped up some of the pasta salad. They both applied themselves to their food before settling down with two more beers to enjoy the bonfire that graced the beach most evenings. The firepit had the look of a semi permanent fixture and there was always a supply of driftwood and other kindling stacked nearby. By what seemed common consent, everyone had drifted to spots around the fire.  
To Steve's surprise, Tony sat down next to him, Bruce apparently engaged in conversation with Wanda and Vision. Steve caught snips of something about whether the use of Wanda's power drew on her own energy exclusively or did she draw from other sources around her. “You enjoying the spread?” Tony gestured at the remains of the meal and seemed to be addressing both Steve and Bucky.  
Bucky surprised him by replying first. “Great food. Thanks. But thanks for more than that, for giving us a safe place to catch our breath.”  
Tony gaped, obviously not expecting that. “I tried to kill you over bad intel. The least you could do is let me apologize in my own backwards way.”  
“If this is an apology, it's accepted. Seriously, you had the same reaction almost anyone would have had. There is way too much in front of us now to worry about the past. Neither of us was thinking straight. Let it alone.” Bucky extended his right hand to shake and reached back to the cooler he had pushed into place as a backrest. He opened and passed over a beer. “Here, have another drink and tell me about flying cars.”  
Tony laughed out loud and launched into a discussion of how the flying car tech was never going to work for an average driver since they were too aggressive on the road now. Steve watched the rest of the team absently as the conversation went on. He noted Barton and Natasha had selected a large tabled boulder to gain some height over the rest of the group. Natasha laughed, a light musical sound at an apparent joke. He was drawn back to the voices nearest him when he heard Tony say, “Seriously, Barnes. Did those Wakandans give you any tech specs on that?” Tony gestured at Bucky's prosthetic arm.  
Bucky moved back and sideways, trying to put Steve between himself and Tony. “Steve,” he whispered loudly, “you will protect me? I think he only wants to keep me around so he can tinker.”  
Steve wasn't absolutely certain that Tony didn't have plans in that direction. “It's okay. I'll make sure he keeps his hands to himself.”  
“You gonna protect my virtue, Rogers?” Bucky batted his eyelashes outrageously and smirked.  
Steve snorted. “What virtue? I could swear you lost that right after your thirteenth birthday.”  
Tony almost choked on his beer. “My dad was right about you two,” he sputtered. “He used to say you were like an old married couple. That you knew everything about each other and didn't hesitate to use it. But that you couldn't take on one without the other. I really think he envied you two.” He took another drag on his beer. “I think I might envy you a little. That level of connection to another human being is hard to find.” Looking around the rest of the group, Tony seemed to be searching for a distraction from his uncharacteristic sharing. “Would you look at that!” He pointed at the far side of the fire. Vision had apparently decided to compare skills with Wanda. She was giggling as he levitated and she tried to weave a magical net around him that resembled a web of fireflies. Every time she seemed to be succeeding, he evaded the closure of the net and that only made her giggle harder. Sam and Bruce stood watching for a few minutes then wandered over to join Steve, Tony and Bucky, dropping down and accepting beers from the cooler.  
“So, Bruce, what have you been up to? Haven't been any green sightings on my radar.” Tony was blunt but Bruce seemed to just accept that as Tony being Tony.  
“I was in Canada for most of the last year. I got to know it after that whole mess in Harlem and just gravitated back. I went to Nova Scotia this time. Spent some time in a fishing village working the boats."  
Steve was more than a little amazed. “I can't picture you as a fisherman,” he admitted.  
Bruce chuckled. “Yeah. Real Captains Courageous stuff. I think the crew liked having someone around to patch them up. And I learn quickly. Learned to play better poker, that's for sure. And I made enough for me to spend my onshore time doing research. Kept an eye on my email and when I got the message from Natasha I asked one of my friends for a lift over to Greenland and caught another boat from there. It helps to know people in the fishing business. I ended up in Bristol and hitched over to Oxford. I've known Roy Fairchild a long time, did some of my original degree work there. We had kept in touch and I knew about the St. Kilda's project and just tagged along with him.”  
Steve shook his head at the idea of a Nobel level scientist essentially becoming a sea going hobo. “He doesn't know about the Other Guy, I guess.” Steve was a bit concerned that someone might put pieces together and bring Ross down on them.  
“He might but he's never said a thing. Truthfully, Roy is a bit of an anarchist. He loves academia and works within it quite well but I've often thought he's be happier 1500 years ago, covered in woad and bearskins and swinging an axe at some Viking invaders. When we were at school, we spent as much time on protests and civil disobedience as we did on studies. Oh, and the biweekly pub crawls.” Bruce smiled at the recollection. Steve just gaped. The last thing he would have expected of the reserved Banner was a history of university protests and alcohol fueled tomfoolery. “Seriously,” Bruce continued, “we were quite irresponsible. The morning after Christmas weekend was a classic. We woke up in an almost deserted car on the underground. Apparently we'd been riding it and passed out. The thing we could never figure out is how we both ended up in kilts. Neither of us owned one and they were very drafty.”  
Steve just stared. Bucky absorbed the story and then snorted and then began to laugh and Bruce joined in. Sam caught the bug as well and soon all three were howling at the image of Bruce in a kilt. It got worse when Sam asked if he had the legs for it. That set them all off again. Tony, who had apparently dozed off, woke up demanding to know what he had missed. No one was inclined to tell him and every request seemed to provoke more laughter. The others moved closer and the evening progressed with shared stories, some of childhood, some of college and some just funny. The fire was kept fed and Steve watched it and his friends and reached for a word to describe how he felt. Peaceful, he decided.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays and here is the next chapter. I usually manage to write one out long hand during the week either at lunch or on the train and transcribe on the weekend.


	27. Chapter 27

Everyone eventually headed to their various quarters. Steve let his door close behind him and pulled off the sweatshirt he had been wearing. He sat on the edge of the bed and debated a shower but eventually just took his shoes off and lay back and tried to get comfortable. He looked at the phone in his hand and waited a bit before he pulled up the page of links. His finger hovered over the last one on the list. He scrambled around for a second on the shelf above the bed, finally snagging the earbuds. Bucky was right next door and his hearing was fully as good as Steve's own. Having no further excuse, he tapped the link and expanded the video window to full screen. The indicator at the bottom showed the video ran 35 minutes. He adjusted the volume to be comfortable and began to watch.  
He had seen professionally produced porn before. He had been curious about it's easy availability but eventually unimpressed with the obviously faked premises and ridiculous dialogue. This was very different. It was vaguely like peeking through a window. He and Bucky had tried that when they were teenagers, not that they ever saw much, people being much more likely then to keep their intimate activities limited to their bedrooms after dark.  
The screen showed two average guys, dressed in tees and board shorts. They were embracing and kissing and exchanging small encouraging endearments. They really seemed to be doing something enjoyable. One slipped his shirt off and a few moments later they moved to the bed. The bed was nothing special and looked like it had been hastily made. The second man discarded his shirt next as the first one lay down on his back and propped himself up with the pillows. The second man knelt on the mattress between his lover's legs and leaned forward to kiss and ran his hands over any bare skin he could reach.  
The man on the bottom had both hands free and they roamed for a bit before settling on the waistband of his partner's shorts to push them down. There were snug black briefs underneath. The man stood and removed the shorts, quickly returning to straddle the first man higher up his body. The man on the pillows looked up and down and began to press kisses to the other man's abdomen and eventually pulled the briefs away, beginning to kiss and caress his cock.  
Steve was fascinated. He wondered if either of these men had any idea their video had been recommended as therapy. They were certainly not shy of the camera. The action became even more intimate. The kisses turned to sucking, the first man had his lips wrapped around the second one's cock and was moving his head and pulling his partner's hips forward in rhythm with his own movements. Steve wasn't that naive. He knew people did this and it was supposed to be very pleasurable to be sucked. He just hadn't realized the person doing the sucking might enjoy it too. It seemed evident from the noises and enthusiasm that this was the case.  
The positions shifted and Steve realized they must have had two cameras set up, editing the best images to get the continuous video. The new view was from the foot of the bed. The man on top had turned so he faced the new camera and removed his partner's shorts and briefs and began to suck him, caressing his balls and bobbing his head. Steve was more than half hard and fought off the embarrassment he felt at watching. If these people didn't want to be seen, they would not have posted this and he surely wasn't the only person who had appreciated this. He adjusted his pants a bit and then, annoyed at the constriction, shucked them off.  
The slow suck job continued, wet and messy. The real shock was that the man being sucked was also busy with his mouth. He had propped the pillows higher and was licking his partner's ass. Steve paused the video when he felt a sudden spike of anxiety. His own arousal had lessened but not disappeared. He breathed deeply for a count of five and resumed watching. The camera angle shifted to the side of the bed and he could see the first man had added his fingers to his tongue, moving gently and surely as if they had done this many times. This time Steve gripped his own cock and kept watching. He was prepared for a flash back to his own assault. There was none. He was transfixed by the way the two men on the screen moved in harmony and kept touching and talking and even laughing as they built their pleasure. And it was obviously pleasurable.  
When they again changed positions, the second man was very erect and seemed eager for what he did next. And that made Steve's mouth go dry and his heart race. On the screen, the second man was crouching above his partner's erection and grasping it at an angle, slowly sinking down until the head of his partner's cock entered him. He gave a hoarse pleasured groan and moved gradually up and down, sinking lower each time until he rested on his lover's hips, fully impaled. His partner stroked his erection and the second man began to move in a slow up and down glide. Steve unconsciously stroked his own cock in time. The couple changed and shifted positions several more times and Steve continued to tease at his own arousal, actually enjoying the luxury of time to pursue it. He didn't feel any particular urgency. He watched as the men on screen eventually came and collapsed wrapped up in each other. He increased his own motions, imagining how it might feel to have a partner, ('fuck, who am I kidding?' ) Bucky doing some of the things he had just seen. He came easily, warmth pooling and spreading from the base of his spine, and then realized the video had a second part, lasting another seventeen minutes. The same two men were dressed a little differently and appeared to be on the same bed. They cuddled and kissed lazily for a few minutes, and proceeded to another round of intimacy. Steve watched and then watched the whole thing again. He stroked himself to another orgasm, then felt the need for a shower. He was relaxed and feeling sleepy under the shower when he had a daring impulse. He reached for some of the fancy liquid soap that was provided in the bathrooms and coated his right index finger. Reaching back between his ass cheeks, he stroked and pressed lightly, surprised at how easily a fingertip slid in. He pressed a little more firmly and deeply and was pleased to realize it felt a bit odd but was not painful at all. Satisfied for the moment with the experiment, he finished showering and took himself off to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we finally get a little hint of smut. Yay me. Also yay for getting a second chapter done thanks to a long morning at the laundromat.


	28. Chapter 28

Steve woke up and stared at the ceiling for a moment, slightly disoriented. The intercom buzzed again, making him aware of what had awakened him in the first place. He hit the answer button near the bed. “Yeah,” he answered, voice scratchy.  
“Hey, Lazybones.” Bucky's voice came through the speaker. “Come for a run with me?”  
Unexpectedly happy at the prospect, Steve answered, “Be ready in a minute. Breakfast first?”  
“Meet ya there.”  
Steve hurried through getting dressed, grabbed his phone and headed for the dining room. Breakfast was buffet style most mornings. He grabbed a huge omelet and bacon and a large coffee and joined Bucky at the table he was waving from. “The food here is so great, Steve.” he garbled between bites of his omelet, topped with a small tower of veggies and cheese. “Think I'm making up for lost time.”  
Steve nodded. “It was never like this before and for sure never in the Army.”  
“We made a big mistake there, pal. Shoulda joined the Navy. The swabbies got all the best food.” Bucky grinned and swallowed more coffee.  
“Wouldn't have helped,” Steve responded. “You know I got seasick too easily.”  
Steve was happy. All too often, reminiscences about the war led to recalling bad memories. This was easy. GI's always groused about the chow. There was usually enough of it but that didn't make it any good. And it was a beautiful thing that Bucky was here with him and able to share all this.  
After breakfast they set out at an easy jog once they climbed the cliff stairs. Warmed up, they began running in earnest. It felt so damned good to do this. Steve had never been able to just run with his best friend when they were growing up. Once they were at the front together there was no opportunity for recreation. Steve watched Bucky move easily, pace relaxed and ground covering and blushed when Bucky caught him at it, a speculative look on his face. Steve hoped he would just attribute the color to exertion.  
Bucky slowed and finally stopped. He turned in place, admiring the view. The cliffs really were spectacular. Steve took a quick sip from his water bottle and almost sat down before realizing where they were. He didn't see anything suspicious but he made a slow circuit of the boulder before taking a seat. Even seated, he kept turning his head to see if anything was sneaking up on them.  
Bucky followed his gaze and, seeing nothing, frowned. “Come on, Steve, you think someone followed us?” Bucky eased back on his elbows, appearing relaxed and content.  
“There's a local story I didn't pay enough attention to the first day I came out here.” He continued the nervous scanning.  
“Let me guess. Haunted rock?” Bucky suggested.  
“Not unless you count rampaging sheep as supernatural. Not real sure about this one. The locals call him the devil.” Steve caught a glimpse of movement on the rise behind them. Nope, just grass moving in the breeze. He relaxed minutely. They stayed awhile, relaxing in the sunshine before Bucky stood up, apparently satisfied with the short breather. He slipped down off the boulder and stretched and that's when Steve saw the streak of movement hurtling toward them, straight for Bucky's unprotected back. Before he could shout a warning, the heavy horns collided with Bucky's rear as he bent to tie a loosened shoelace. He went flying forward, face first. He was quickly back on his feet and spinning to see what had attacked him. His assailant pawed the ground and shook his horned head.  
“What is that thing?” demanded Bucky, trying to wipe his face and only succeeding in spreading dirt around.  
Steve moved cautiously, halting when baleful amber eyes swung to focus on him. “The locals call him 'Auld Clootie', nickname for the devil apparently.” Steve kept moving slowly, he and the four legged demon keeping each other in sight.  
“Well I'm gonna call him dinner when I'm through with him,” Bucky declared. He made a feint to the side and the horned head swiveled back to focus on him with obvious evil intent.  
“You can't hurt it, Buck. Pretty sure he's a protected species”  
“Protected?” Bucky scoffed. “We're the ones who need protection. That beast is a menace.” Bucky dodged sideways as the sheep charged again. He was fast but the horns still caught him a glancing blow on the hip. He ran circles around the boulder as Steve kept trying to distract the beast. “Steve, Come on! We are highly trained enhanced soldiers with great tactical experience. It's a damned sheep!”  
Steve hopped down and actually ran, calling back over his shoulder. “His island, he wins. I am not waging war on a sheep.” Bucky managed a quick dart away and followed. Auld Clootie, apparently satisfied with his superiority over the invaders, watched them leave.  
“I never thought I would see the day. You backed down from a fight. Steve, that is against the laws of nature.”  
“I've matured,” Steve prevaricated. “I choose my battles now.”  
They jogged along for a moment or two before Bucky began to laugh. “He beat you before, didn't he?”  
Steve would not dignify that with an answer.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the demon sheep returns and our favorite boys get to enjoy some uncomplicated time alone to relax. A sheep is just a minor obstacle.


	29. Chapter 29

It was honestly as if Bucky was eight again with the same weird sense of humor. Except when he was eight, he hadn't developed the sniper and spy skills he now possessed and he had access to tremendous amounts of technology which could be warped to his use. Steve emerged from the shower after their run and immediately began hearing sheep noises. Bucky had apparently downloaded sheep noises to his phone. Steve would hear the sound but never seemed to catch Bucky out. He was too damned sneaky. But it got worse when Steve discovered at dinner that Bucky had done something to change his own message alert so every time he received a text, his phone also baaahed. Bucky sat across the table sending him text after text and remaining stone faced as Steve's phone sounded like a whole barnyard full of the fluffy menaces.  
That wasn't the end. They joined Natasha, Clint, Sam and Bruce for a movie in the lounge after dinner. That was when Steve realized there were collaborators. All the phones except Bucky's went off at once with a group text and it sounded like an entire herd of sheep. He made the mistake of looking at the message and was surprised by a picture of his woolly nemesis. When he looked up everyone except Natasha was watching the film, although Sam was smirking. Natasha was examining her tablet attentively. The next group text came from Natasha's phone. Again there was a sheep concert. Steve face palmed when he saw the image. It was a horned sheep standing upright, wearing leather armor and carrying a battle axe and a shield as he was smashing through a door into a medieval fortress. Steve was never gonna live this down. He heard an unaccustomed sound and looked across the room. Bruce, normally so quiet and sedate, was actually looking at his phone and giggling!  
Steve was convinced he was going to have sheep in his nightmares but he actually slept well. He thought it might have been the run. He was getting breakfast with a still smug Bucky, when Tony headed for them, coffee in one hand, ubiquitous tablet in the other. "Need to go over some stuff. Got time?” Without waiting Tony launched into a description of the work he had done so far. “So I've got one group of engineers working on creating a replica of a WWII era Hydra transport train. Figure two cars and the engine should be enough. Then there's a separate team working on the vitaray machine model. Both under totally different project numbers. And then there are the surveyors scoping out locations. Still another project number. The beauty part? The whole thing is budgeted under one of SI's entertainment divisions. It's a hush-hush movie in development.”  
Tony stared at his empty coffee, puzzled at the lack of beverage. Before he could wander off in search of a refill, Steve steered him back to the subject. “What do you need from us?”  
Tony looked his mug again then said, as though it were obvious, “I want you to look at the locations and select the best one to use. You two have the most experience with tactical stuff. Best for the job and all that. Lab in about ten.” He headed for the counter and more caffeine. But by the time Steve and Bucky had made their way to the lab, Tony was catching up with a once more full cup. He swept them in through the door and closed it behind himself.  
“Friday, display map, target locations marked in red.” The holo display showed thirteen small dots. “Give detail on location one including surrounding geography and photo images.”  
It took awhile to assess all the locations. Steve and Bucky rejected half as being too close to population centers with risk of damage to civilians if things got hot. Four more Steve declared were too far off known Hydra transport patterns to be believable. They had carved thirteen down to two after about two hours work.  
Bucky sat back in a chair, arms crossed over his chest and head cocked to the side. He finally pointed at the left side of the display. “That one,” he declared.  
Steve looked at the image. “Abandoned salt mine in Poland. No significant population in the area. It has it's own rail spur and there was a minor Hydra base about five kilometers from there back during the war.” He examined the details more closely. “Entrance blocked right after the war. No real successful exploration of the tunnels reported.”  
“You like this one then?” Tony sought confirmation and got two nods. “Good. The prop train and equipment will be ready by the end of November. We move it in quietly. Finish hiding the goodies and then have some 'leaks' about a find there get out to the local explorers. They'll be sure to check it out and put some images on social media and local news. Ross will pick that up and will be planning a little look see once he's out of office in January.”  
“If we're really lucky, he'll want to see for himself,” Steve added, still studying the map. “Give me all this and any other surveys of the area. We need to have people in place if he does. We may catch him with his own hand in the cookie jar.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in a weekend. WooHoo!


	30. Chapter 30

Bucky headed off to the cliffs after lunch. He wanted to watch Sam fly, apparently trying to work out the tactical limitations and advantages of the wings. Steve, for the first time, actually went looking for Uwase. Every person he spoke to seemed to have seen her but had thought she was going elsewhere. At a bit of a loss, he decided a walk was a good bet. She didn't enjoy being indoors and frequently went wandering. He headed topside and let his feet take him on what had become a usual route.  
He had walked about a mile when he heard a soft sound carried on the breeze. He turned inland and saw what appeared to be the wreck of a small stone cottage, the roof gone and the stone walls scattered except for a section around the crumbling chimney. There sat Uwase, perched on a squared off stone. He blinked in disbelief. A familiar menacing horned head rested in her lap and a heap of loose fiber was resting next to her. Steve stepped closer and she waved a hand to beckon him to her. The hell minion looked at him, snorted and closed his eyes in absolute dismissal. Steve selected a nearby perch that offered some potential routes of escape.  
“You do know that's a wild animal,” he asked in a quiet voice.  
Uwase continued to calmly pluck loose tufts from the coat under her hands. “Hardly,” she responded, “just shy of people and used to protecting his ladies." She pointed to a hollow further inland where the shapes of several other sheep were visible, grazing among another heap of stones. “My father raised sheep and goats. One doesn't lose the ability to deal with them. These, I read, are a very old breed. The wool is loose and can be plucked out, so.”She held up a tuft of fiber in variegated shades of gold and brown. “I think I may collect enough and send it to my third granddaughter. She's fond of weaving and enjoys new wools.”  
Steve stared at the animal that had chased off two supersoldiers, now napping quietly. “You're a sheep whisperer,” he finally offered with a smile.  
“Among other things,” she agreed placidly. “But you came here for something besides commentary on my animal husbandry skills.”  
Steve cleared his throat and felt himself blushing. “I watched the video,” he finally blurted out.  
“Of course you did. And was it pleasing?” Uwase brought her eyes up briefly, amusement simmering in their depths. Steve's face was positively burning and Uwase continued to pluck wool, calming and repetitive. “Come now, was it arousing?”  
Steve ducked his head and his voice was perilously close to a squeak. “Yes,” was all he could manage.  
“And what does that tell you?” she prompted.  
“Well I guess it confirms I like men that way, but I guess you're wanting to know that it, uh, worked.”  
She nodded and began combing through another section of fleece. “So, imagine that you and your heart's desire are close together and you wish to do some of the things you saw. What does that feel like?”  
“What? Right now?” Steve was scandalized.  
“What better time than the present,” she challenged. She wasn't looking at him, working quietly and listening.  
Of course, Steve knew who he wanted. He had seen Bucky kiss girls. He'd always seemed confident yet very gentle and respectful, never pushing if the young lady was shy or reluctant. He would be like that with me too, he thought. He imagined shedding clothes and getting his hands on skin... He wanted this so desperately. He was still full of anxiety but the need seemed greater than the fear now.  
“Uwase,” he ventured.  
“Yes, child.”  
“I think I know what I want. I think I'll be all right with what I want. But there's still the problem I had all along. How do I let him know?”  
“Let your heart guide you. It is wiser than you think.” At this point, Auld Clootie rose to his feet, shook himself and gave Steve an amber-eyed glare before turning his back and meandering over to his harem. Uwase collected the surprisingly large heap of fleece and gathered it up in the folds of her long skirt, turning up the hem to make a pouch for it. They walked back to the cliffs, Steve moderating his strides. They paused at the top of the stairs.  
“What if I freeze up?” Steve asked.  
“I think if you can make a start, he will help you. How often have you guessed what the other was needing or thinking with only a word or a gesture?” When he still looked doubtful she sighed. “Oh, come with me,” she hooked one imperious finger at him, keeping her other hand anchored holding her skirt hem up. He followed her down the stairs and into the lift and to the nice suite of rooms she had been given. She dumped the wool in a bin in the corner that already held a quantity of similar stuff. She pointed him to a chair and took one for herself from the desk.  
“When I was a girl, I was tiny and studious. I wanted to succeed at all I did and had no time for the silly flirtations some girls enjoy. A young man came to see my father, the son of a friend, who had business with him. He was very handsome and had been to the university for agriculture. But he returned to call at our house often, and wished to go walking with me. I lost all my words with him. He had words for both of us. He took me to dance and I missed the steps and he just matched his steps to mine. He became my husband and on the first night of our marriage, I thought I would not be a very good wife since I had never paid any attention to such things. We have been wed fifty years and that night is still the sweetest memory. Patience and love overcome much. What two people do together for love has more to do with feeling than knowing. And after all,” she finished with a wicked grin, “the internet is full of videos like the one I sent you.”  
Steve wondered seriously if his blush was going to be permanent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to keep the updates weekly. Next chapter will have some movement on the romantic front.


	31. Chapter 31

Steve was jolted out of a confusing dream about being chased by a sheep and trying to hurl his shield at the animal and finding no shield but a plate full of waffles in his hand. He reached for the button to answer the door intercom which was what had likely awakened him. “Yeah,” he managed, swinging his legs off the bed and sitting.  
“You need to come to breakfast Steve,” came Bucky's voice, disgustingly cheerful. “Sam says they have waffles. We can't miss waffles.”  
Steve opened the door, walked back to the small bathroom and showered and brushed his teeth quickly. Bucky tossed him a change of clothes and was sitting on the edge of the bed when Steve emerged. He was unnerved to see Bucky holding his phone but Bucky just handed it over and grabbed Steve by the arm and urged him out the door still enthusing about waffles.  
Sam and Barton were already devouring substantial amounts of fruit laden toasty goodness when they joined the breakfast crowd. The waffles were being turned out to order by Gregory and his staff and accompanied by real maple syrup. Steve got a plate and some coffee and waited for Gregory to hand him two enormous waffles topped with peaches and butter. He sat next to Sam and was immediately subjected to the usual ribbing. “Man, I was hoping for seconds.”  
Steve swallowed the first bite. “Still too slow I guess.”  
Sam glared at Barton who was snickering. “Cold, man. Very cold.” He finished his coffee and stood up. “Gotta go. Stark's got a new idea for faster level take off.” Barton headed after him, expressing interest in the process.  
Bucky was tackling his own breakfast, wiping the plate with the last of his waffles. “Want to run again?” he asked.  
Steve pushed back from the table. “Good idea. Right after we eat?” Bucky nodded and went for another round of waffles.  
They ran the other direction this morning, Steve telling himself it had nothing to do with avoiding rampaging sheep. They settled into an easy stride, enjoying the morning and the quiet companionship. Steve slowed and halted southwest of the village and they sat relaxed, sipping water.  
“That's pretty interesting,” Bucky finally ventured pointing to the rock formation at the top of the steep upslope that hung over another cliff. It resembled a doorway and framed an irregular patch of blue sky.  
Steve nodded and shared some local knowledge. “The young men used to climb the thing and lean out. Something about proving they were worthy of their ladies.”  
“I reckon we could climb up there,” Bucky mused. He was up the next instant, Steve right behind him.  
The slope was gradual initially then they had to clamber up heaped stones and finally scale the supports that held up a crosswise stone that spanned two naturally occurring uprights. Somewhere before they reached the last leg, Steve felt the sudden need to make it first. He reached and gripped the ledge and hauled upward, feeling more stable once he dragged a knee up. He stood and realized why the folks that lived here regarded this as proof of a man's courage and worth. The climb required strength and perseverance and standing here was clearly risky. The drop was sheer, slightly undercut at the top and the stone was uneven and tilted. Bucky joined him after a moment, edging forward to eye the drop.  
“Bet this is the best view on the island,” Bucky ventured. “Village behind you and ocean in front.” He turned to lower himself carefully to more stable ground. Steve lingered a moment and ventured to stand with one foot on the edge recalling that the legend had promised that the man who could do so and balance properly would be worthy of love. Superstitious but it made him feel somehow lighter as he followed Bucky back down to the path and back to the lab.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Underestimated by a bit. And I did say slow burn. Next chapter. Promise.


	32. Chapter 32

Steve was disappointed that Bucky did not appear at dinner. Neither did Sam. Barton overheard Steve asking Wanda if she had seen either of them. “They went to the village with Genevieve," he offered. "The restoration group has their priorities straight. They have a bar. Somebody brought some speakers and they laid a board over two barrels and, voila, local hot spot.”  
Wanda confirmed Barton's unlikely info. “Genevieve says they can't work all the time and most of them spend a lot of their after hours there. They drink, dance, talk about something other than work. The staff here go over whenever they can.”  
Steve finished eating and decided a walk was a good idea. He knew the way to the village well by now and the walk was calming, centering. The long twilight was fading earlier as the summer passed but there was still plenty of light for the moment. He made quick time to the hill overlooking the village and it was easy to find the bar, the lights carrying a good distance. He could hear the bass beat of music and background noises of voices.  
He stood at the doorway quietly watching. Genevieve and a man who was probably Roy were dancing to something Steve thought might be club music. Sam was engaged in a deep conversation with a pretty redhead who had some indefinable air of military about her, maybe the set of her shoulders. Steve found it odd how easy it was to pick out soldiers or ex-soldiers, male or female. Bucky was leaning back against the bar on his elbows speaking to a slightly older man. The current song ended and Genevieve sauntered up to the bar next to them. Bucky initially shook his head and grinned at what she said. She was insistent and dragged the bartender into it. The bartender was also the DJ it seemed. The next minute the music resumed, only this time Steve knew it. Benny Goodman, Sing, Sing, Sing. Genevieve stamped one foot and held out her hand. Bucky gave a mock bow and joined her as the floor cleared. Bucky proceeded to demonstrate why he had been considered the best dancer in the old neighborhood. When Genevieve didn't know a step he showed her, leading easily. She got better, obviously having a natural gift for it and the crowd demanded the DJ cue up two more songs of the same type. Genevieve giggled as Bucky handed her off to Roy and danced with the other young ladies who lined up for a chance. Sam even got up with his little redhead and tried a few turns.  
Steve finally walked all the way in and joined the group, hoping he wouldn't attract too much attention. His hair was a little longer than he usually allowed it to grow and he wore a nondescript cap and jacket. The bartender offered him a beer and he stood for a moment before Sam looked up and noticed him. He tapped Bucky's shoulder and when Bucky turned, the look caught Steve completely flat footed. His face was lit with the kind of brilliant smile that Steve had thought he's never see again. He was bubbling with excitement that good company and good music brought out. Steve lost his heart all over again.  
“Barton said you were coming over here. I thought I'd check it out too,” Steve managed when Bucky had crossed the floor to him. “Kinda surprised me.”  
“What, me getting social?” Bucky grinned. “I am actually not a deep freeze science experiment anymore. And there are some smart kids here. They've done an awful lot with their lives already. It's nice to talk to people that don't know all about me and have other things going on.”  
Steve sipped his beer. “And some of them can actually dance.” he observed mildly.  
Bucky eyed him and chuckled. “You caught me. I could never pass up an opportunity. Did you ever learn?”  
“Nah, never had the need to with everything that happened,” Steve said dismissively. He nudged gently at Bucky's elbow. “Walk with me?”  
Bucky nodded agreeably and grabbed another beer before following Steve. The moon was up and lent a soft gleam to the landscape. They walked at least half a mile when Bucky just stopped and Steve looked back. “You gonna tell me what's going on in that head of yours yet?” He leaned against a stretch of crumbling stone wall and crossed his arms.  
“You know I've been doing a lot of thinking and talking to Uwase about what happened in Brno and a lot of other stuff.” Steve watched as Bucky went from leaning to sitting, hands clasped around the neck of the bottle dangling between his knees. Steve removed his cap, folding it and tucking it in a pocket. He ran nervous fingers through his hair. “Brno threw me for a lot of reasons but there was one thing that was worse. I never acknowledged something about myself and only realized it when I thought it might be too late to do anything about it.” Bucky's face was shadowed where he sat, a dark silhouette with the bright moon over his shoulder. Taking one deep breath, Steve spoke in a whisper now. “I love you.” He was certain he heard a small sound from Bucky's direction but no other reaction. “After all that, after all the mess I've made of our lives.” Here there was definitely a noise but Steve felt he had to get this all out now or he might not have the nerve to try again. “I'd never seen you interested in men that way and even if that was possible, I didn't think I was someone you'd want, especially after Brno.” He took a deep breath. “I just knew I needed to tell you and see if it was possible."  
There was a long silence before Bucky spoke, still not moving. “You have no idea how long I've been waiting to hear you say something like this. Seventy years you made me wait?” He sipped at his beer then asked, “What do you want?” His voice was as calm as if he were asking about plans for supper.  
“I'm not sure what I was thinking. I was just hoping you wouldn't walk away.”  
“Idiot,” was the quick response rapped back at him. “Besides, you're lying. Try again.”  
“I was hoping you'd feel the same,” Steve ventured, strained and desperate.  
“Come over here,” Bucky invited. Steve closed the few feet and stood between Bucky's knees, looking at his feet and holding his breath. Bucky reached out and pulled his left hand over and kissed the knuckles lightly. “Good thing I feel the same way.” He tugged and Steve shifted sideways to join him on the wall. “Can I kiss you?” Steve nodded and felt the soft dry press of lips. “Okay?” Bucky asked. Steve nodded and felt daring. He closed the short distance and repeated the kiss, bringing a hand up to Bucky's face, stroking lightly.  
He edged back a fraction and whispered, “I really didn't think I could have this-have you.”  
Bucky's voice held soft amusement. “You're stuck with me now. Not getting rid of me that easy.” Steve shivered happily at the touch of lips on the delicate skin beneath his ear. He leaned back and to the side, wordlessly asking for more. “Oh, found a good spot have I?” He pressed little kisses all over Steve's neck, interspersing little flicks of his tongue. The moonlight flooded the moorland and Steve pulled back to see Bucky's face. He had just a second to bask in the affection in those eyes before Bucky leaned in slow and easy. Steve felt lips touch his and held still to feel everything about it. His eyes fluttered shut and he felt the moist press of Bucky's tongue at his closed mouth. He opened with a sigh and the gentle exploration continued, meeting Steve's own tongue and gliding along it, hot and sweet. He'd never thought kissing would feel like this, that this simple contact would make his heart race. He followed Bucky's retreating tongue, exploring his mouth in turn, the kiss wet and intoxicating now. Bucky pulled back slightly, catching Steve's lower lip between his teeth and nipping gently. “How's this?” he asked, mouth reddened and breath a little quick.  
Steve didn't even think. He dove back in for more and Bucky enthusiastically matched his moves. There were soft groans and messy wet sounds that were inelegant but so satisfying. He moved his hands, wanting to touch more of Bucky. Remembering how good the little kisses on his neck had felt, he ran one hand up to the back of Bucky's neck and rubbed his thumb in careful circles on the skin under his ear. Bucky gave an almost inaudible moan, swallowed in the kiss.  
Steve might have happily stayed there exchanging kisses in the moonlight. Bucky was a bit more practical. “Little exposed here,” he finally whispered. Steve looked around guiltily wondering if they had been seen. “Might be better with a more comfortable surface under us too.” Steve wondered if the blush showed. “I didn't mean it like that,” Bucky snorted. “This wall is cold and hard and I prefer comfort when I'm necking.” Reluctant to give up the closeness, Steve was reassured when Bucky grabbed his hand as they stood. “Let's find a better place. And you can tell me what else you want to do.”  
“Well,” Steve offered, “Uwase gave me a video to watch. She called it homework. I really liked a lot of what I saw there.”  
Bucky pulled him to a stop. “She sent you porn, didn't she?” he demanded. “Probably with an involved explanation of how it would help you explore your repressions?” Bucky shook his head and looked up at the sky. “Sometimes I think she does stuff like that just to see how much she can embarrass the rest of us.”  
“It worked,” Steve admitted. “It embarrassed me but I also liked it.”  
“Don't worry. She has a lot worse than that up her sleeve.” They began walking again. “Was that why you were nervous about your phone this morning?” At Steve's nod, he chuckled. “Just imagine if I had thought to look.”  
“You wouldn't,” Steve protested.  
“What if I want to?” Bucky suggested. “You liked the video. Do you maybe want to try some of the stuff in it?” When Steve nodded eagerly, Bucky chuckled. “Then we might need to watch it together, take notes or something.”  
They walked on, the night quiet until they heard a high pitched squeal from just over a small rise to the right of the path. A brighter light lured them up to look down on a hollow where a tent was pitched. Another delighted squeal and a lower pitched voice answering came from the couple in front of the fire outside the tent. They could make out the shapes in the glow of the camp lantern and the fire, two figures on a spread out sleeping bag, a woman seated on a man's lap, exchanging kisses and wriggling in an ecstatic embrace. Steve eased back immediately and Bucky followed. Neither of them wanted to spy on Roy and Genevieve who were taking full advantage of the summer evening.  
Back on the path, they resumed walking. “Wonder...” “ D'ya think.” They laughed as their words overlapped.  
“You first,” Steve insisted.  
“I was wondering if the lab had a store of camping gear. Might be nice to do a little star gazing.”  
“Great minds,” Steve agreed. “Let's ask.”  
They had gone perhaps another half mile when they were again distracted. The lantern light led them to another campsite. This time the campers were in the tent, the lantern providing a silhouette of two bodies moving easily against each other, two undoubtedly male voices raised in a duet of pleasurable gasps, moans and encouragement. As they moved away, Steve shook his head. “I'm beginning to think that we're the only ones not taking advantage of the atmosphere around here.”  
“Let's remedy that then,” Bucky said, heading off at a faster walk, Steve following eagerly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three chapters in a weekend. I sometimes surprise myself. I'm the only one editing here folks so I apologize for any blunders.


	33. Chapter 33

Inquiry to Friday secured the information that camping supplies were freely available in the storerooms and got them the door codes for the exact room. Splitting up seemed practical, although Steve seemed very disinclined to do so. He held up the elevator for 'just one more kiss' for about fifteen minutes before Bucky finally pulled away. “I am not gonna get to third base against an elevator door. I have way more class than that.” He nudged Steve out the door and took the elevator down two more levels while Steve paid a visit to the dining hall.  
Steve found Angela, the chef on duty, and secured a large cooler bag with half a dozen sandwiches and some cold fried chicken and an entire pie. Bottles of water were tucked in around the food with plates and forks on top. All of the kitchen staff had a gift for creating meals to go on a spur of the moment basis. He hoisted the bag and headed for his room. He brushed his teeth and grabbed a portable charger for the phones. He dithered for a moment and nervously added condoms and lube from the stock in the bathroom. He could be overly optimistic about where things were going. It was probably too soon but he knew he would be very disappointed if they didn't have them. If they weren't required, no one needed to know. He stuffed the items in a front pocket of the bag and headed back to the elevator.  
Bucky had apparently packed for an entire boy scout troop outing. He had a tent in a bag, a ground tarp, two double sleeping bags and a lantern. All were clearly labeled with contents and SI logos. He handed Steve the sleeping bags and they headed back topside again.  
They walked inland, finally finding a spot far enough from the well used paths to be private. There was a section of tumbled wall at the top of a little rise that offered a wind break and Bucky dropped the tent and tarp there. They worked without a lot of comment, setting up their small camp. They stretched the ground sheet out and laid the sleeping bags out on top, zipping them together along one edge to provide a broad comfortable surface. The tent was a dome shape that required a few supports snapped together before it popped up like a self supporting mushroom. They staked it down and then settled back on the sleeping bags outside.  
Leaning back, the stars spread above them, a huge arch of twinkling lights. They turned the lantern low and just stared up watching a shooting star streaking across the distant heavens. Steve reached out with his left hand and found Bucky's right already seeking him out. “This is nice,” he offered.  
“Understatement,” Bucky replied. “Neither of us would ever have imagined having a chance of doing this.” Steve knew that was about more than an impromptu overnight sleep out.  
They lay quietly, fingers twining softly, learning the shape and texture of each other. Eventually Steve twisted to his side and reached his index finger out and traced it over Bucky's face, beginning at his forehead and trailing over his nose before being halted as Bucky reached up and held that single digit, kissing it gently. “What are you thinking?,” he asked. “Where are we taking this tonight?”  
Steve was suddenly shy and felt ridiculous for it, recalling the enthusiastic embraces earlier in the evening. But honesty had gotten him that so it seemed best to continue. He had a feeling if he said nothing, that star gazing was all they would be doing. “I don't really know what I'm ready for. Maybe everything and maybe just more kissing, so long as it's you.”  
Bucky turned to face him and leaned in for a single kiss, mouths gliding smoothly over each other. “Got an idea,” he said. “Got your phone?” Steve hauled it out. “Good. So my idea is we watch that video together and see where it takes us. Tell me what looks good and what you feel up to trying.”  
As Steve cued up the video, Bucky arranged the cooler bag to serve as a prop for it. They settled down to watch. Steve had already watched the thing twice, he knew what was coming up. That didn't eliminate the impact. He was feeling flushed and warm after a few minutes. It felt different watching with someone next to him. He shifted, nervous and mildly aroused. Bucky slid a hand under his shirt, stroking his back gently. “This okay?”  
When he didn't answer immediately, the hand stilled and just rested flat against his skin. He knew what Bucky was doing. He was pushing Steve to set the pace. “Keep going,” he managed. “That feels good.”  
Bucky's hand resumed it's easy motions and the action on the screen progressed as clothes were shed and the camera angle made it's shift. Steve felt a need to move, easing himself a little. He was still embarrassed by the awareness of arousal and knowing Bucky was watching his reactions so closely. He felt the hand on his back exert the faintest pressure and he turned and moved closer. He circled his own arms around Bucky, still surprised at the heft of muscle under his palms. They stared for a moment and Steve finally threw caution out the window. He leaned in and angled his mouth across Bucky's, the first contact delicate before Bucky began to work Steve's mouth open with teasing touches of tongue. Steve kept hearing noises and realized it was his own pleasure finding expression. Bucky was quieter but sought out Steve's responses with a single minded focus.  
Steve had lost track of the video. It played in the background, faintly tinny sound through the speakers of the phone. All he was hearing were Bucky's quickened breathing and the sloppy moist sounds of kissing and the occasional sighs and moans from his own throat. Bucky eased away a fraction, nibbling at Steve's lips and smiling as he tugged at the hem of Steve's sweater. They separated long enough for him to skim the sweater and tee shirt off and then shrug out of his own. Steve leaned back on his elbows watching avidly as Bucky dropped the clothes next to the sleeping bags and lowered himself back down, resuming the kisses and bringing his right hand up to trace a slightly ticklish trail down the center of Steve's chest to his belt line. He raised his head to look at where his palm rested, the skin under his hand shivering pleasurably until Steve lurched upward, sealing his mouth over Bucky's again, craving another taste. Bucky smiled into the kiss and slid his hand back up, fingers catching on a nipple and halting, rubbing gently as Steve gasped out his surprise at the sudden tightening of the flesh under Bucky's fingers. He dragged his head back and away, breathing in a harsh gasp of air and Bucky repeated the action on the right. “Feeling good?” he asked.  
Steve was completely caught up in the moment but knew he had to respond. “Feels wonderful.” He was sure his face must be completely, idiotically dazed. Bucky just smiled and then brought his mouth down to where his fingers had just been. Steve thought he might lose his mind completely. There was a soft sucking then a slight scrape of teeth and pressure from that tongue and all of it repeated until he writhed, only to have Bucky repeat it all on the other side. Unable to think of anything else to do he brought his hands up, circling his arms around and clenching his fingers into Bucky's shoulders so he could pull himself even nearer to that wonderful mouth.  
Bucky slithered down, trailing soft kisses down to Steve's belly. He stopped with his head level with Steve's belt and looked up with his hands resting on the buckle. Steve nodded briskly and watched as Bucky inched the buckle and his pants open one painstaking fraction at a time. He grasped the open flaps and slid his hands around, getting a firm grip. “Up,” he requested. Steve raised his hips and Bucky drew the pants off tangling them with shoes at the last minute and laughing at the jumble as he extricated Steve from it. He slid his hands back up, over knees and thighs, watching Steve's face all the time. He placed one soft kiss on his belly, just over the top of the briefs he had left in place. Steve breathed short and shallow and gulped once, mouth suddenly dry. He nodded again and Bucky began to peel the fabric down, still keeping eye contact, not watching his hands but Steve's reactions. When the briefs were moved far enough down, Bucky mouthed, “Yes?” and got another sharp nod in response. Steve grabbed for the discarded shirts and bundled them under his neck and leaned back, head now supported so he could see as well as feel. And feel he did, as Bucky lowered his head and pressed wet kisses to the thin skin over his hips and stomach and circled in a narrowing spiral. And the closer he got, the harder Steve got. He felt every brush of lips and fingers and his cock hardened and throbbed as he waited for that heated mouth to get even closer. A breath gusted softly and Steve's body tensed as Bucky's lips trailed soft and moist over the base of his erection, a light teasing contact that promised so much pleasure. Bucky's head rose and his tongue trailed up, base to tip, eyes locked on Steve's, pleasure scintillating between them. Bucky slid his tongue over the head, tasting drops of precome and swirling gently.  
Steve hands scrambled for anything to ground him and he felt cool metal as Bucky reached his prosthetic hand up to meet his right. Steve tightened his grip to a point that would have been painful on flesh as Bucky slid his mouth over and down. If Steve thought he was losing his mind before, this was absolute insanity. Imagination and his own hand had never prepared him for the effect of another human being touching him so intimately. Bucky's right hand stroked up the inside of a thigh and cradled Steve's balls, fingers caressing the tender sac as his mouth moved in hungry strokes and a slow rhythm and Steve shuddered and struggled to watch at the same time. He choked off the sound trying to escape his throat for awhile but when Bucky sank all the way down and swallowed him, Steve howled and twisted his grip on his hand until he swore later he felt the metal give. Bucky repeated the move twice more and Steve made even more noise, finally just repeating 'Bucky, please' over and over. Bucky's response was to quicken the pace, wrapping his right hand around the base of Steve's cock and sliding mouth and hand together up and down, steady and wet and so very hot. Orgasm sang through Steve's nerves and he howled again and thrust up twice, Bucky riding the movements and still sucking, face smeared with what he couldn't catch in his mouth. It was messy, uncoordinated and absolutely the best thing Steve had ever felt.  
He dragged Bucky up next to him, kissing him and getting the salty bitter tang of his own come and not minding at all. He was shaking and felt tears stream down his cheeks at the same time as he was laughing and trying to keep kissing. And Bucky just moved with him and stroked gentle patterns over his back and shoulders and hips until he finally calmed down enough to just tuck his head under Bucky's chin and revel in being close. Bucky dragged at one corner of the combined sleeping bags and pulled the insulated fabric over, cocooning them together and enjoying the peace of the star filled night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating now upgraded to explicit as smut now happens. I am captain-magicalkitty on Tumblr. And please, comments are always appreciated.


	34. Chapter 34

They lay together letting their breathing return to normal, the sleeping bags warming around them with combined body heat. The quiet was easy and relaxed. The stars sparkled and a breeze whispered softly between and around the stones tumbled around the ridge protecting their camp.  
“So,” Bucky nudged at Steve's head with his nose. “What's the verdict?”  
Steve brought his head up and forced his face to relax and managed a deadpan, “It was OK.”  
Bucky almost went cross eyed staring into his face. He frowned and finally burst out, “You miserable tease! You're still a punk!”  
Steve completely cracked up. “I just had my first sexual experience ever with someone I have loved for more years than most people live. I screamed myself hoarse expressing my appreciation of your efforts and you ask me that?”  
“Well that's better. I did put some of my best skills out there.” Bucky beamed smugly.  
“Well, maybe I could use a few more samples, for comparison?” Steve was hoping the hint would be taken.  
“Seriously? Seconds already? Very greedy, Steve,” Bucky mock chided. “I have an idea. How about we see what hidden talents you might have.”  
Steve felt the shyness return. “Not sure I'd be as good as you.” He was game though. “But I do know that whatever we do, we need to get you out of your pants.”  
Responding eagerly to the suggestion, Bucky jumped to his feet and actually remembered to remove his boots before peeling his jeans down his thighs. He was left standing in the tiny briefs he had found he preferred as underwear. He moved a bit uneasily as Steve stared. Steve realized he was just sitting bemused and smiled a bit self consciously. “Sorry, I used to want to look all the time and I was afraid you'd catch me looking. Just feels good to be able to.” Smiling, Bucky hooked his thumbs in the waistband and slid the briefs off as well before kneeling on the sleeping bags. Steve reached out one hand, tracing down the lines of muscle on Bucky's torso. Taking encouragement from the soft whispers of his name and the increasingly urgent gasps, Steve moved downward over the trail of soft hair below Bucky's navel and finally touched silken blood hot skin over hard flesh that twitched toward him, reddened and leaking from just those few touches. Bucky's cock was as beautifully formed as the man himself. And Steve still hesitated. “Show me,” he finally asked, looking up from where his hand rested. Bucky brought his own right hand down and brought Steve's hand up to his mouth, kissing each finger before swiping a lascivious tongue over the palm and returning both hands to his groin. He wrapped Steve's fingers around the base and tightened his over them so the grip was snug and then stripped their hands up to the head, twisting at the top and adding moisture from the precome pulsing steadily from it. Steve repeated the motion a few times and pulled Bucky's face nearer with his other hand, kissing and nibbling at his lips and changing the rhythm when Bucky pushed forward and let go of his hand, fisting it into the sleeping bag and husking out, “Yeah, Steve, just like that.” Steve was amazed at how easy and beautiful this all was after so much anxiety. He was shocked when Bucky just gave a series of short urgent gasps and thrust a few times more, spilling hot and sticky over Steve's hand. He was even more shocked when Bucky brought his hand back up and sucked his fingers again. Steve reached out a tentative tongue and shared the taste. Salty and not much different from his own. He managed to grab his own discarded shirt as the closest thing available and mopped up the rest of the mess. Unexpected finding, sex was messy. He wondered why he had never bothered to think about that before.  
They shared some more sleepy kisses, pulling each other close and tucking the sleeping bag around themselves. “I love you,” Steve said very quietly. “I wish we had been less foolish.”  
“Not foolish, Steve. Neither of us knew what we were really doing and even if we had, there was too much against us then. I'm happy we're here now.” They shared another kiss. “I love you so much and I am so glad we got here finally.” He glanced over to the side. “But please turn that darned movie off.”  
Steve stretched out, did as requested and snagged the cooler closer in case they wanted anything and relaxed. He anticipated how nice it would be to wake up with someone. He listened to the sound of their breathing and the soft sounds of the night around them and dozed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love kudos and comments. Any mistakes are all mine as this is not beta'd. Thanks to everyone reading.


	35. Chapter 35

Steve opened his eyes and held perfectly still. He was lying on his back and there was a heavy weight along and over his right side. It was Bucky, apparently still asleep, his face buried in Steve's shoulder and his right arm and leg thrown over and around him in an octopus embrace. Steve smiled and moved his hand, amazed at the ability to simply touch, enjoying the feel of smooth sleep warm skin under his palm.  
“You want to go another round, we might need to eat first.” The amused comment was accompanied by a slow feline stretch and Bucky raised his head and smiled. Steve crooked his neck at an awkward angle, finally managing to get their mouths together. He was becoming addicted to kissing. He was smart enough to pull back after only a few moments. If he didn't, they might never get to the food. Steve reached back and hauled the cooler over. Bucky turned the battery lamp up and grinned at the contents of the case. “The cooks know who they're feeding at least,” Bucky commented as he removed the utensils and the pie and eyed the chicken and sandwiches.  
“Wasn't sure what you'd like so I just said put some of everything.” Steve handed Bucky a plate loaded with pieces of chicken and a sandwich. He grabbed a bottle of water and his own plate and sat cross-legged. They had pulled on underwear but were otherwise unbothered to dress. Steve focused on devouring the excellent food. He was just finishing his last piece of chicken when Bucky reached past him.  
“Any idea what kind of pie that is?” He prodded gently at the golden crust with a plastic fork.  
“Berry of some kind I think,” Steve replied. He grabbed pie dish and knife and sliced in. He edged the knife around watching for Bucky to say 'when'. When all he got was raised eyebrows and a grin, he finally gave up, split the thing in half and scooped half onto his plate and handed Bucky the pie tin. Bucky immediately forked up a bite and pronounced his opinion.  
“Delicious. And it's lingonberry.” He scooped up a very inelegant chunk and munched happily.  
Steve tasted the pie, the crust flaky and buttery and the filling fresh and tart. “What's a lingonberry?”  
Bucky interrupted his eating. “Think Swedish cranberries. Supposed to be healthy but I doubt they meant in pie.” Bucky looked across at him smirking. “And before you say it, it's not some random fact I recovered from my past. I was talking to one of the chefs and they told me it's a favorite of Barton's and he asked them if they could make it.” He looked at his now empty pie tin and began cleaning up, gathering sandwich wrappings and utensils into a plastic bag and tucking everything away in the cooler. He left out two more water bottles. Steve watched somewhat bemused as Bucky rearranged the gear and then shooed him off the sleeping bags. He unzipped them and placed one on the floor of the tent and left the other folded loosely next to it. He tucked the water bottles into a corner and sat back on his heels, waving at Steve like a cheesy hotel concierge. “Our room is ready.”  
Steve grinned and ducked into the opening, shifting around to get comfortable as Bucky followed him. The tent was supposed to be a four person but was still a little small for the two of them. “So, feeling up to anything else?” Bucky asked as he settled on his side, propped on an elbow.  
Steve felt his face heating and knew he was blushing. “Maybe, if you are too,” he ventured.  
“Suppose we just see what happens then.” Bucky ran one provocative finger down Steve's chest, a light tickling sensation. Gooseflesh prickled his skin and his nipples hardened as the fingertip traced outward, brushing lightly over them. They must have had the same idea at the same time. Their mouths met in a messy clash that left them both laughing ruefully. Bucky lay back, tugging at Steve's shoulders. “You lead,” he suggested cheerily. He maneuvered a bit, shifting his legs until Steve found himself propped on his hands and elbows with his legs between Bucky's. He hesitantly lowered his hips and couldn't believe how good something so simple could feel. They were both half hard again. Steve sat back on his heels and slid his briefs down, watching as Bucky mirrored his action, grinning up at him. Sinking back down, Steve felt the heat build between them, cocks sliding against each other, pressed between their bellies. Bucky's eyes fluttered closed and his head lolled back. Steve darted his tongue against the inviting stretch of skin over the pulsepoint. When Bucky's breath hitched and stuttered, he repeated the gesture, followed by a soft nip. An indrawn hiss of breath was followed by a long moan that might have been Steve's name.  
Feeling an urgent need to move, Steve slid his hips up and back. Bucky grabbed at him, pressing up into him and, between them, they established a rhythm, sweat and precome leaving just enough friction for a sensuous tease. Steve had little idea what he was doing, but it felt fantastic. Bucky uttered encouraging, half heard exclamations eventually just devolving into a litany of 'more, more, more'. He drove his hips up on each exclamation, finally stiffening as Steve felt the sudden pulse of heat and wet against his belly and the sudden increase in slickness was what Steve needed. He ground down and Bucky pulled him even tighter as he came hard. “Bucky,” was all he managed to say, holding his weight up on shaking arms, thinking even in his fuddled state that it couldn't be good manners to crush your partner under you.  
Bucky yanked him down and tangled his fingers in sweat drenched blonde hair and stared into his eyes. “You're amazing,” he declared before kissing him slowly and thoroughly, passion spent for the moment, just a sweet tender exchange of breath that made Steve sigh in contentment.  
Steve might have stayed just like that, but Bucky reached around and grabbed the already wrecked tee shirt and dampened it with water from one of the bottles. He set about the decidedly unromantic cleanup.  
“It's cold,” Steve protested.  
Bucky shrugged, applying the garment to his own skin. “You'll thank me in the morning. We do not need the aggravation of pulling ourselves apart if this dries.” Steve saw the logic in that and they finished the cleanup, rearranging the sleeping bags, zipping the bottom and one side together. Bucky lay back, urging Steve down to curl against his side. He huffed slightly and dragged Steve's right arm across his waist and seeming satisfied with the degree of cuddling, murmured, “G'night.”  
Steve was sure he wasn't going to sleep. Between all the new feelings, the odd environment, not to mention sleeping so closely with another person, he couldn't imagine how he could. He counted the rise and fall of Bucky's chest, smiling at the faint whistling snores. He managed to count as high as fifty two before the tent became a quiet cocoon where both men slept peacefully

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late. I am trying to update at least once a week but I was in no fit shape for anything last week with a strep throat.


	36. Chapter 36

“Steve, wake up. And for fuck's sake, don't move.” Bucky's voice was low and urgent, his body tensed against Steve's side. Opening his eyes, Steve saw the walls of the tent bright with daylight. He felt a sudden tug at the bottom of the sleeping bag and Bucky tightened the grip on his arm. “I said don't move.”  
“We have to move some time,” Steve whispered back.  
“All right. Just move really slowly,” Bucky cautioned.  
Very gradually, Steve turned his head and lifted it to look at the tent opening. Steve had garnered the reputation among his present day associates for being a civilized man, conservative in his speech. The people who held this woefully misguided belief were fucking idiots. Steve had spent his early life in slums, in the army and in a traveling show troupe. He was a master of creative and elaborate cursing when the need arose. He glared at the creature which stared right back at him with it's oddly shaped golden eyes. “God fucking dammit, that cocksucking whoreson bastard is haunting us,” he declared in one breath and without a pause. It was Auld Clootie, invading their privacy and placidly chewing a hole in the bottom of the sleeping bag.  
Bucky was sidling backwards, grabbing their clothes and hunting through the pockets of his pants. He found the knife he was looking for and sliced through the tent fabric, making a large enough hole to wriggle out of. “Steve, come on. Let's get out of here.” The sheep flicked it's ears back and forth, continuing it's nibbling for a bit. It found Steve's discarded tee shirt and snorted as it quickly dropped it, going back to the sleeping bag. Seeing the beast occupied, Steve followed Bucky out through the hole. He dressed quickly, having no desire to confront a four legged adversary while bare assed. They were fastening their shoes when they heard a cheerful voice above and behind them.  
“Good morning.” It was Genevieve, standing on the stones above them. She took in the scene and laughed outrageously. “Looks like Auld Clootie has expanded his bag of tricks.” Taking long strides down the hill, she dropped her backpack and circled the tent. They followed and stared amazed as she gave the beast's hindquarters a solid shove. “Here ya nasty thing. Get off now! Shoo!”  
The ram backed awkwardly out of the tent, looked at her, huffed indignantly and walked away. Genevieve looked back at their amazed faces and grinned. “What? He's all bluff.”  
Bucky shook his head. “You're a witch. You have power over evil animals,” he pronounced.  
“Hardly,” she waved a hand dismissively. “He's just a standard woolly. They're not really dangerous if you stand up to them.” She looked around at the disarranged camp. “Need some help?”  
The three of them managed to collapse the tent and gather up items scattered by the nosy sheep, Steve grabbing his soiled and slightly chewed tee shirt and tucking it quickly away. They walked back to the coast, giving Auld Clootie a wide berth where he was standing guard over his ladies on the sunny hillside. “It's nice sleeping out,” Genevieve commented. “It's generally so quiet.” She walked on a little further. “Of course last night was a bit surprising. Don't suppose you two heard any odd noises, did you? Roy and I thought we were hearing things, maybe one of the ghosts that supposedly haunt the island.”  
Steve felt his stomach drop. He had a sudden recollection of exactly how much noise he had made last night and had no doubt it must have carried in the silence of the largely uninhabited island. He opened his mouth to stammer an apology but Bucky spoke first. “Gee, we didn't hear a thing. Right, Steve?” Steve just nodded, sure he must be completely transparent.  
Genevieve looked sharply at both of them. “Of course, whatever it was sure was good for the romance. Roy said he wished he could thank the 'ghost' for inspiring me, as he put it.” Steve couldn't speak. Bucky just smiled and helped Genevieve with her pack as they descended the cliff stairs. The single file allowed no further conversation. Steve was sure Genevieve knew exactly what they had been up to but suddenly realized he shouldn't be so embarrassed. She had as much as admitted she and Roy had been up to similar antics. Indeed, it was likely a good many of the young people here took advantage of the lack of population to do precisely what Steve and Bucky had. It was still a little mortifying to be sure but he doubted Genevieve would comment on it to anyone else. And even if she did, he wasn't really ashamed of what they had done. He smiled when they paused at the bottom of the stairs.  
“Are we in time for breakfast?” he asked. “Maybe we could eat together and you can explain how best to deal with rogue sheep.” Genevieve gave a dimpled grin and a hearty nod and led the way to the lift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Making up for lost time. Two chapters in one day.


	37. Chapter 37

Steve offered to return the gear so arrived at breakfast when Bucky and Genevieve were already seated. Breakfast this morning included cinnamon rolls, huge and covered in a sweet sticky glaze. They were apparently very popular since large trays of them kept appearing and then disappearing very quickly. Steve grabbed one and then, with a guilty glance around, a second one, along with an enormous plate of scrambled eggs. There was already a carafe of coffee on the table. Bucky eyed Steve's plate as he poured coffee. He seemed about to make a comment when Genevieve gave a loud snort. “Don't say one word, she chided. “That's your third one already.” Bucky gave an unrepentant smirk but continued to eat.  
The conversation around them was much more animated then usual. Genevieve supplied the answer. She gestured with her coffee cup at a dark haired man speaking with broad gestures to his table mates in what sounded like some variation of French. “The buoy sensors sent back data on a whale pod in the area. It's a huge opportunity for the marine science division. They are arguing over who gets to actually go on the boat which has limited space. If the pod stays in the area for a day or two, everyone may get to go but nobody wants to risk missing out.” They watched as supposedly mature scientific minds resorted to rock-paper-scissors to make the decision. They seemed to eventually work it out and the cheering victors left for the dock.  
Genevieve excused herself, taking a final cup of coffee with her. They weren't left alone long. Sam and Clint joined them and helped themselves to coffee. Sam passed over his phone and pointed to the screen. There were a series of brief twitter messages from @Wozniak. The tweets spoke about a new discovery that Wozniak was hoping to make.  
Barton was grinning. “Jan Wozniak is a Polish-American archeologist and urban explorer. He has a big twitter following. His stuff is starting to trend and is sure to be seen. Best part is he's not at all connected to any of this. He just heard a few planted rumors that a crew scouting film locations had found something unusual and decided to have a look into a supposed WWII era find.”  
“Are we leading him at all, besides the initial rumors?” Bucky asked, handing the phone back.  
Clint was holding the now empty carafe with a woeful expression. He set it down and leaned back a little in his chair. “There is another twitter user, @ballet_babe, that sent him links to some pieces of planted information. He'll find a record of which trains Hydra ran during the war and what happened to all of them, with one notable exception. That one has remained missing. There is also a manifest of the highly classified cargo with redactions. It's still enough to rouse his interest. He can be relied on to work the puzzle. It's solvable and just hard enough not to raise suspicion.”  
Steve nodded approval. “So Oberst has been routinely passing along information like this and will include this as well the next time he sends Ross a summary?”  
Clint nodded. “He works to a schedule. We don't want to raise suspicion by varying that. He sends Ross a precis of what he's come across once a month. This will be included with the usual transmission on the fifteenth of next month. Then we wait to see what Ross does with it.”  
Sam leaned his elbows on the table. “Stark has said the train mock up will be ready by the end of October or the beginning of November. It should allow Wozniak time to get a look at it but no time to really do anything much with the winter coming on. He'll want to wait for the weather to clear. He won't say much about it so he can keep it to himself.”  
Steve thought of something else. “Is this putting the man in any danger? What if Ross wants to get the information out of him?”  
Clint gave a little head shake. “We already know Ross is unlikely to move at all until after January. He'll let things simmer until then at least. We have eyes on Wozniak. If anyone gets too close, we can ensure his safety. He may not like it but better to be grabbed up by our side than Ross's.”  
“We'll need to move into the area after the train is in place. We need to be there on the ground before Ross even thinks about doing anything.” Bucky drummed his fingers on the table lightly. “I think I might have a good location for us to wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay. Hopefully get back to posting at least one chapter a weekend.


	38. Chapter 38

“So what exactly are we looking at?” Tony popped some almonds in his mouth and tossed the display remote across the table. Bucky fielded it and used it to highlight a location on the map in the display. The area was enlarged to show a large rambling building that seemed to be log constructed with deep recessed windows and stone chimneys.  
“It's about five miles from the location at the salt mine. It was built as a hunting lodge for a Polish nobleman in the nineteenth century. It was taken over during the war as a headquarters for a German general. After that, it was the country home of a Communist official. When the Communist government collapsed, it was bought up by a steel magnate. His widow still owns it.”  
Tony interrupted. “You didn't get all this off a real estate search.”  
Bucky ducked his head a bit and when he looked up his mouth was a set grim line. “The steel tycoon was a target. I got very complete files.”  
The rest of the group was quiet. Steve leaned a little closer to Bucky. Ever practical, Nat cut straight through. “Never mind how we got the intel. When I found out about the place, I did my own research. The widow is frail and elderly and prefers to live in town with her family. She leases the property. Unfortunately, her last prospective client lost interest.” Here Nat paused and smiled. “When the place was relisted, an eccentric author replied and asked for an open-ended lease at a very profitable rate so he can write his next book.” She glanced around the table and then produced a realistic looking book jacket with Clint's face on it, altered by the presence of a neat mustache and tinted glasses. “Congratulations, Barton. You just became a best selling mystery writer.”  
Clint nodded. “So I stake the place out and get any locals used to me. My friends occasionally come in and out so the activity becomes routine. Got it.”  
Tony eyed the map. “The property is big. You can get real close to the mine site. We can use that for long range surveillance and bringing equipment in. Can land a quinjet down there and nobody would know. Great find, Barnes.” He munched some more almonds. “What's the inside like? Security, power, electronic access?”  
“The real estate office says fully loaded. Wifi, dedicated cell site, and a big emergency generator. Decent security system but Stark tech would be better. We can upgrade.” Nat cocked her head to the side. “I think Clint should go in as early as possible, next week maybe, and establish his presence. Once he's in, we can arrange to start moving equipment in a bit at a time.” She looked around the table and got nods of agreement. She stood and gestured. “Come on then, Agatha Christie. We need to review your cover.”  
Clint rose to follow. “Seriously, Nat. Do I really have to grow a mustache?”  
People gradually exited, leaving Steve and Bucky seated at the table. “You were helping the team out, Buck. Better we make use of your knowledge for this.”  
Bucky appeared to shake off the experience. “Yeah. I can't afford to react this way every time something hits a nerve. Especially with Stark.”  
“What about me?” Tony reappeared from the lab. “I am very sure you must be discussing what a considerate team mate I am.” He held up a hand as Steve scowled and started to say something. “Uhuh. Play nice. I realized there was a mistake made in assigning living quarters. Need to correct that.” He poked at his omnipresent tablet and Steve felt his silenced phone vibrate. From Bucky's facial expression, his did as well. “Code for new quarters for you two. Much nicer.” He turned and headed back to the lab again, apparently addressing his AI. “Friday, how many false alarms did the sensors pick up last night? Maybe need to factor in the sheep.”  
Steve almost ran from the room, Bucky right behind him. “What?” Bucky asked when they finally stopped in the lounge.  
“He knows!” Steve hissed out. “The sensors. He told us the first day there were security sensors all over the island. He's telling us he knows what we were doing last night.”  
“So what if he does?” Bucky tugged gently at Steve's hand and led him to the sofa. Sitting, he continued. “We live and work with spies, security experts and freaking geniuses. Did you really believe that someone wouldn't figure it out? Are you that ashamed of it?”  
“No, Bucky, never ashamed. I just thought we could keep it to ourselves for a bit. And Tony...”  
“Tony could have made it a lot worse and you know it. Hell, I might have expected a general announcement over the PA instead of a private conversation.”  
Steve grimaced. “He may still do something awful.”  
Bucky sighed and settled back so they sat with shoulders touching, watching the fish in the sunlit surface waters outside. “I get it. You're still not used to the whole idea yourself. But you aren't in this alone.” He brought their joined hands to his lips and kissed Steve's knuckles. “Suppose we go see where he's moved us to and then plot our revenge. I think we can manage something creative between the two of us.”  
Steve squeezed the hand he held and pulled Bucky up after him as he stood. “Friday, please direct us to our new assigned quarters.”  
“Certainly, Captain. Please look at the diagram I have sent to your phone and follow the prompts.”

 

.  
.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So another two chapter weekend. I thank everyone who is reading and sending kudos. You are all the best.


	39. Chapter 39

The directions were, of course, accurate. The door code entered, the panel slid aside. The room was set up rather like a nice studio apartment and was much larger than the rooms they had originally been in. A desk and two chairs and a wall mounted video screen were at one end. The larger portion was taken up by the bed. A door to the left of the bed was probably the bathroom. Steve was edgy, expecting a practical joke at any second. A welcome basket with condoms, porn music though the speakers, sex manuals open on the pillows – something. The room defied his expectation as he stood by the door and allowed Bucky to poke around. He turned the TV on but it was tuned to the inhouse information broadcast which included local weather and the day's menu as well as any planned social events. Music accompanying the feed was a soft classical air on piano. The desk was empty except for a Starkpad Bucky recognized as his. It had a small scratch worn at one edge from his prosthetic thumb gripping in that spot all the time. The tiny closet held all their clothes with the bags tucked neatly underneath. He sidled over to the bathroom and peeked in. It was empty with pristine chrome and glass winking back at him. Finally he sat gingerly on the edge of the bed. It gave comfortably and nothing else happened.  
Looking at Steve, Bucky addressed the AI. “Friday, are there any individual protocols in place for this room other than the preferences imported from Captain Roger's and my old rooms?”  
The pleasant voice responded. “The standard security and alarm features are in place. Would either of you care to set a wake up alarm?”  
Steve moved a step or two into the room. “There were no specific protocols added for us as the new occupants?”  
“Mr. Stark encoded a greeting for you that was to be played on the screen when initially activated. It was a compilation of the 'highlights' of a variety of gay sex films, including particularly a lengthy sequence from a title called The Anal Terminator. Copies of the Joy of Gay Sex were uploaded to your Stark Pads and phones and were to replace your default start screens with random images from the book. I determined, based on previous protocols, that this might not be appreciated. I disabled all the automatic features, although the referenced literature remains available if desired.”  
Bucky was laughing. “Steve, Stark has a conscience and her name is Friday.”  
“Actually, sirs, that subroutine is one Miss Potts insisted on. She does not wish Mr. Stark's sense of humor to discomfit his guests.”  
“Thank you, Friday. I think that will be all for the moment.” Steve moved toward the bed, finally relaxing. “I really could use a shower, Buck. You don't suppose he booby trapped that, do you?”  
They edged over to the door and peeked in. Bucky tripped the light switch but nothing happened other than the lights coming on with a soft indirect glow.  
“Guess I'll risk going first.” Bucky waggled his eyebrows for comedic effect. “Of course you could always join me. Scrub my back?”  
Mood lightened, Steve nodded. “You convinced me.”  
The shower featured multiple jets and settings. Bucky loved modern showers, especially the ones with rain settings. He discovered this one had that and a great deal more. He tinkered with the temperature and pressure and made sure there were sufficient amounts of shampoo and such handy. He'd considered cutting his damned hair but never seemed to get around to it so conditioner was a necessity. He stripped out of his clothes and even managed to hit the provided hamper. Turning, he saw Steve still standing a little uncertainly, shoes off but still otherwise dressed. Bucky licked his lips and stalked forward, grinning as Steve's eyes widened and his ears and cheeks pinked. “What? I love opening presents.” Bucky extended his hands. “Okay with you?” Getting a quick nod in response, he put his fingers to work, sliding the sweater up and off and 'accidentally' tangling Steve's arms in it and then licking ticklish stripes up and down the skin revealed. By the time Steve had stopped giggling long enough to get the tangle off, Bucky was already working his belt open. He palmed Steve through the fabric and brushed his mouth with a kiss before unzipping his trousers and and sliding them and his briefs off. Steve shook the pants off and got the clothes half in and half out of the basket. Bucky grabbed his hands and walked backward to the shower, towing Steve after him.  
“I was under the impression that showers were about getting clean,” Steve commented.  
“Sure they are, but we may as well make the effort worthwhile by getting a little dirtier.” Bucky had reached down and was stroking Steve's cock slowly, the water a gentle cascade around them. Caught up in a sudden impulse, Steve stepped forward and nudged Bucky against the tile, sinking to his knees and eyeing Bucky through the steam. “You ready for this?” Bucky asked gently. Steve's answer was an enthusiastic effort to swallow Bucky whole. He coughed and backed off and gamely tried again, a little more slowly. Bucky's cock was hot on his tongue, the same salt tang he remembered from last night, a little diluted by the water. It was harder than he had expected to loosen his jaw enough but he got the hang of it after a minute or so. Bucky just spread his legs and rested one hand on Steve's shoulder, head bowed to watch him and muscles straining to hold still and feel everything. Steve brought both hands up to Bucky's hips, steadying himself and kneading at the solid muscle. He tried to remember what Bucky had done to him, adding swirls of his tongue and low humming noises, gratified when Bucky stroked him softly and whispered, “So good, Steve. Just like that.”  
Becoming braver, Steve bobbed his head a little faster, pulling Bucky's hips toward him. His hands slipped on water slicked skin and as he regained his grip, the fingers of his right hand strayed further back than he intended. He tried to slide away, hoping Bucky wouldn't notice what he'd done but his wrist was trapped in a firm metallic grip. “Put your hand right back where it was, please.” The request was voiced softly but very seriously. “You're not hurting me and you won't. Just keep doing what you're doing with your mouth and use your middle finger to rub a little.” Steve's hand was guided back and he felt the curl of the opening under the pad of his finger. He rubbed lightly and risked a look up. Bucky was smiling at him and the cock in his mouth hardened a degree more. He pressed a little and sank in slightly, not daring to risk more. Bucky shuddered and spoke urgently. “Steve, pull back, gonna come.” Steve only withdrew a little and caught the first burst of semen on his tongue, the rest splashing his chest as Bucky leaned over and dragged him up, wrapping his arms around him tightly as he caught his breath.  
Bucky fumbled for the conditioner he had seen before and squeezed a generous handful on Steve's palm. He turned to brace his hands on the tile, looking over his shoulder and waggling his ass. Steve stared at his palm and shook his head. “Steve, trust me. Just rub that stuff in between my cheeks and slide that pretty cock right in the crease. Nice easy glide up and down. Nothing complicated.” Steve finally moved, rubbing the conditioner in and then freezing again. “Steve, seriously, the worst that can happen is your dick will smell like coconut conditioner.” Cautious, but reassured, Steve began to move as directed. The slickened skin and the press of firm muscle was insanely arousing. He forgot to be nervous and thrust over and over until he felt heat coalesce at the base of his spine. He gripped Bucky harder and pressed as closely as he could, spurts of white mingling with the green tinted conditioner and washing down their legs. Bucky turned and grabbed Steve's shoulders and shook him gently. “Anybody ever tell you that you're a menace to their sanity?”  
Steve responded in kind. “Thought that was you.”  
Bucky held him and eventually brought a hand up to nudge his chin up so he could see his eyes. “You feel good?”  
“Wonderful, actually, but...”  
“Let's make a deal then. I promise I won't let you do anything to hurt either one of us. But if I suggest something, it's because I know it feels good. I get you're not ready for fucking, but there's plenty of other things we can do with each other.”  
Steve nodded and kissed him and then pulled away to grab the soap. “Okay. But we'd better wash ourselves. I have a feeling we may never make it out of the shower if we try to wash each other.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to all of you reading and leaving kudos and comments.


	40. Chapter 40

Clint disappeared the following week. Nobody said much but the tension gradually increased. Bruce and Tony tinkered with the wording in documents meant to sound scientifically plausible and fed them through Tony's Oberst persona. Vision and Wanda practiced a variety of techniques to refine her control of her magic. Steve knew there was a physiological basis for her talents but magic seemed to cover it nicely. Natasha ducked in and out, more tired every time, but always bearing more intel. Steve spent his time sparring with Bucky and Sam. Bucky was insistent on all of them being prepared to respond to any style of attack, either alone or together. Uwase had gone home to see her fourth great grandchild and had returned with pictures everyone cooed over.  
Aside from sparring and planning sessions, Steve and Bucky had little else to do. As autumn crept in, everyone realized why the former inhabitants had abandoned the location. The storms were incredible, the winds whipping the ocean to a froth and the temperatures plummeted. The lab stayed under most of the time. The supply flights had to time their arrivals to breaks in the weather. The village restoration teams had gone home in late September.  
Steve, surprisingly, insisted on continuing sleepouts when the weather permitted. With good outdoor gear and an enhanced metabolism, the temperatures weren't really an obstacle. They had long since learned to avoid or run off any errant sheep.  
On a late October afternoon Tony sent out texts calling the team to the conference room. As they assumed their usual seats, Tony called up a picture of a very realistic appearing Hydra designed train. “The fabricators finished early. This is as detailed as they could make it based on era photos and archived plans. It's being crated up now and should be in place in the mine in about three days. Give one more day for the team to restore the exterior to it's previous condition.” He clicked through to another display. “This is the manifest that will be reported as coming from an old Hydra location and which Herr Oberst will forward to Ross. The manifest lists experimental chemicals and equipment as well as relevant research documents. The items were prepared for shipping and sealed by one Otto Rank, a technician working under Zola. Ross has already heard that name in connection with Zola's work.” He moved to yet another display. “We've included the orders for the guard troops and train crew including the contingency plan to hide the train and it's cargo if capture seemed imminent. The ordered route passes the mine and the map clearly shows the rail spur.”  
Nat took over at this point. “Clint is watching the locals and being unobtrusive. Wozniak has been in and out and the people gossip about him. Clint understands more Polish than he lets on so they just talk around the American when he gets groceries or goes to the post office. Wozniak has a contact in the town and is very vocal about wanting information about the mine. He and his contact have plenty of unsecured conversations via email about the mine and Wozniak's plans to get in for a look.”  
She switched the display view. “These are aerial and satellite photos of the mine area. It will show just enough detail to whet the appetite. Ross will want more complete data and will push Oberst. He'll only get scraps but if he wants the whole meal, he'll have to come get it. We expect he'll use diplomatic connections he's made to get into the area with support, either mercs or Hydra forces still in the region.”  
Nat looked around the table. “Once the installation is complete, we start moving in a little at a time. We'll be out of sight on the estate from the end of November until January. Frankly I can't see Ross waiting too long to investigate. His requests to Oberst have increased in frequency and urgency. I'd recommend Wanda and Vision go in first. Wanda speaks some Polish. Sam, you'll go next and if anyone asks, you're Clint's literary agent. Steve, you and Barnes will go in around Christmas, Bruce early January and Tony last except for me. I need to keep the longer outside view as long as possible.” The meeting just seemed to dissolve after that. No one had much else to add.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Real world making it hard for me to write. But here's the next chapter.


	41. Chapter 41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another conversation with Uwase.

Steve had been pleasantly surprised that no one remarked on the change in his and Bucky's living arrangements. Stark made an occasional comment but everyone else seemed to think it was business as usual. He sought out Uwase and found her in her quarters. To his surprise, Bucky was already there. He was seated crosslegged on the floor next to Uwase's deep armchair. He was winding a soft green yarn into balls. He looked up at Steve's entrance. “You need a private session or should I stay?”

Steve considered the other chair in the room and then just dropped down on the floor next to Bucky. “No reason for you to go.” He picked up a ball of yarn and examined the jewel green color. Uwase was knitting with one of the completed balls and a pair of polished wooden needles.

She worked several stitches, quick and sure. Without looking up she asked, “What question have you today? I am sure it is not about the bedroom. You both look too pleased.” 

Steve would never get used to the way this woman discussed private matters so easily. He framed his first question carefully. “Our friends seem to know we're together but they haven't really reacted to it.” Bucky snorted loudly. “Well, except for Tony's initial ambush. That even worked out all right. The book has been informative.”

“Yes, my pretty one told me about it. The book was a good choice. It's well written and has good advice. You might also try The Gay Kama Sutra. It has quite lovely prose.” 

“It's true some things are going well,” Steve continued. “I'm still having nightmares and I'm worried about the plans we're putting together.” He paused with an uncomfortable look.

“I know no details of your plan but your friends seem able enough. Are you concerned about them or yourself?” Uwase kept her eyes on what her hands were doing, although Steve was sure she was aware of every nuance of his reactions.

Shockingly, Bucky answered. “Why should this op be any different from everything else you've ever done? You always expected more of yourself than anyone else.”

Steve almost made a curt response, then paused to think why he was stung by the comment. He directed his attention to Uwase. “Is it really a bad thing to want to do the best I can?”

“You are speaking of two different things. Wanting to do your best is admirable. I question whether it is good to berate yourself if your efforts are unsuccessful. It is, my sunshine child, possible to do your very best and still fail.” She looked up at him as she finished speaking, gentle smile in place. “Perhaps we need to speak of this otherwise. How are your two cases similar and yet very different?”

Bucky looked at his hands, introspective. He finally tilted his head back. “I don't follow.”

Uwase nodded her head and put her knitting down. “Perhaps you might think on the word power and what it means to have it or be deprived of it. You,” she petted Bucky's hair, “came to me as a person having none. You felt as if every choice had been taken from you, made by others or forced by your concern for others.” 

“You and Wanda showed me otherwise. You gave me the choices and the tools.” 

“Exactly! Bright child.” 

Steve frowned. “So how am I different? My choices were also taken away.”

“You, sunshine child, are at a disadvantage.” Uwase stared, focused and serious. “You had limited power over your life as a boy, this I have read. But what you had, you used. You made yourself known.” Bucky snorted but otherwise didn't interrupt. “With your transformation, you had power to spare. You were able to do what your mind and heart willed and you became very used to that and even more impatient with yourself I would venture. You have done a great deal, battled aliens and all manner of menaces. You won the love of your youth back from captivity.” She pointed with a thin finger. “No one can overcome always. Your body can be beaten. It is a truth for all humans. And it struck you very hard to learn it the way you did. Your confidence is not what it was and this worries you as well. And when you worry and become anxious, it becomes even harder to think clearly about what you must do.”

“Uwase, there are times when I think you actually read minds.” Steve was not sure if he was pleased she could cut through to the issues so quickly or upset that he was so easily read. 

Bucky looked at Steve then back at Uwase. “Teaching him what you taught me might help,” he suggested. Steve, puzzled, glanced between the two of them. “Steve, you have to have heard me. Seriously, I do it all the time.” Seeing Steve just stare, Bucky continued. “Calming exercises. I am not as put together as you all think. I have lots of times when my anxiety gets the better of me. Sometimes physical activity helps. When I can't use that, Uwase taught me to use deep breathing and mental imaging, tied to a key phrase. I keep repeating it, until my heart rate and breathing settle down.”

“So, what's the magic word?” Steve asked.

“It is different for each person,” Uwase went on. “Select a memory, a time you were very happy and make it very clear and detailed in your mind. Think of a short phrase that describes it and when you say that phrase, you remember the warmth and happiness of that remembered time. Gradually breathe in the memory and let it fill you until there is no room for the anxiety. It requires some practice but the more you do it, the easier it becomes. Would you care to try it?”

Steve resisted the urge to call the whole thing silly but Uwase had been right all along. He closed his eyes, sifting through the decades. All his happiest memories were tangled with Bucky. He let his mind drift. An early summer afternoon when Bucky had just gotten paid and wanted to treat Steve. They went to the drug store on the corner and had Mrs. Heidelberg make them chocolate egg creams. He tried to detail the scene. Afternoon light poured through the big windows and flooded the highly waxed floor. The fountain fixtures were bright chrome. He and Bucky sat on the red upholstered stools and grinned at each other as Mrs. Heidelberg poured the cold milk and then the seltzer, adding the chocolate carefully from the familiar bottle, stirring gently so the foam stayed on top. Watching was entertainment in itself, the alchemy that turned simple ingredients into a treat. And then sitting, nudging knees together and grinning around the straws as they tried to make it last as long as possible. “Okay, I have the image. Now what?”

“Think of a short phrase as a label. If your memory is a file system, this phrase would be the tag on the folder.” Steve nodded. 'Chocolate egg cream' was the easiest phrase. “Now close your eyes again and repeat the phrase and focus on the feel of that moment. Breathe in and feel the scene brighten and become clearer. Breath out whatever stress there is to give the pleasant memory more space.” 

Steve felt silly reciting chocolate egg cream under his breath, but he went along with the suggestion. He felt the summer sun, the tingle of the carbonation, the sweetness of the chocolate, the easy joy in Bucky's company. 

“Steve, how're you feeling?” Bucky's voice but not part of the memory. 

Steve opened his eyes. Uwase had resumed her knitting and Bucky was watching him carefully. “I feel good,” he finally said. “Like after a good run and a hot shower.” He felt surprised even as he said it. 

“Should be good. You checked out for about five minutes.” Bucky smiled, apparently pleased.

“Uwase raised a hand when Steve must have displayed some of the alarm he felt. “It's a mild form of self hypnosis. If you had needed to deal with an emergency, you would have been quite able to do so.”

“Damn, Steve. That was great. It took me days of practice to let go like that.” Bucky leaned in and hugged him. Steve swallowed his mild embarrassment at the gesture. Someday he might get used to that. 

“You have the means to control this,” Uwase assured him. “The more you use the technique, the more useful it becomes.” She beamed at both of them. “Now, on your way. I need to finish this row and then skype with my third grandson. He is worried his prospective bride will not accept him. Silly children.” 

Bucky rose to his feet, kissed her cheek and grabbed Steve by the hand and hauled him out. Steve managed a quick thank you before they were hurrying down the hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter done. Hope all the folks reading are enjoying.


	42. Chapter 42

“Where are we going?” Steve asked. They were heading down the corridor but not in the direction of their room or the dining area. He realized they were approaching the topside access. “Planning a picnic?”

“Not today. Here, Coat and binoculars.” Bucky handed over Steve's and began pulling his coat on. He checked the bulky pockets and found water bottles and protein bars. 

“So why are we going out?” Steve was all for exercise but this seemed excessive. He slung the binoculars and followed Bucky into the lift. 

“It's November which is prime season for them and one of the marine science crew just texted me where to look.” Bucky seemed very excited and Steve just hurried after him. They walked past the stairs and around the cliffs to a broader stretch of rocky beach out of direct view of the lab. Bucky slowed and began moving more carefully and finally climbed up on a huge boulder and pointed. “Have a look.”

Steve climbed up next to Bucky and looked where he pointed. Literally hundreds of large greyish lumps sprawled over the beach. Smaller paler ones were interspersed among the larger ones. Steve raised the binoculars and focused them. “Seals?”

Bucky nodded. “Grey seals. My science source says they always come here this time of the year to have their pups. Look at the babies.” Steve took another look, scanning the large group. Sure enough, the paler lumps were seal pups. As the wind shifted a bit, it carried the sounds of the infant seals calling to their mothers and the general racket of the adults negotiating the space with each other, jostling like passengers on a crowded subway. Steve grinned. This was special. He caught Bucky's eye and they eased down the far side of the boulder and moved nearer. “We're not supposed to get too close. The moms get real protective.” 

They settled down on the beach, sitting with their backs to the cliff face. The seals appeared to be ignoring them, until one of the smaller adults began to haul itself closer. “Bucky, should we go back? I mean, is it safe?”

“Just keep real still. Eddie said they are curious and might come check us out. They're pretty used to the researchers being around.” Bucky watched carefully. The animal made it's ungainly way up to them, finally settling just about a foot from their boots. It watched them with liquid brown eyes. They looked back, Steve risking a slow movement to pull out his phone. He tapped up the camera and set it for video. The seal appeared unconcerned with it's moment of fame. It rested for bit then moved again, edging up nearer to Bucky. It began rubbing it's head against his boots, using the rough tread to scratch it's chin. Steve continued filming, moving the phone carefully to keep the seal in the frame as it slid even closer, hoisting itself finally onto Bucky's legs. It raised it's head and looked at both of them placidly. “Hell, now what do I do?” Bucky looked pleased and appalled in equal measure. “Steve, seriously, I have a seal in my lap.”

Steve resisted the urge to laugh, not sure how the animal would react. “Just hold still. It has to move eventually.” Sure enough, after about ten minutes, the seal raised it's head again as the clamor of the group increased and some of the animals moved toward the surf. Apparently deciding to join it's comrades, the seal eased away and hauled itself toward the water as well. Steve watched it leave, finally stopping the recording. “That was amazing, Buck. How long do you think they'll stay?”

“Eddie says they leave when the pups are big enough. There's plenty of food for them and they seem to know the islands are safe.” Bucky stood, extending a hand to help Steve up. “Thought it would be nice to see them before we had to think about heading for Poland.” 

They were walking back to the lab. “You know, sometimes I want to just get there and get this whole thing over and other times, I would like time to just stop.” Steve grabbed Bucky's right hand and stuffed their joined hands in his pocket. 

“Know what you mean. There's no way we can leave Ross alone, to keep doing what he plans but this place has been a good breathing space.” Bucky stopped and spun Steve around facing him. “I guess I worry whether we'll be able to keep what we've started here.” 

Steve considered carefully how to say what he felt. “There's nothing magical about this place. It's lovely and peaceful but we will still be us no matter where we are. It's taken me too long to get to a point where I know what I want. I'm not going to go back to where I was before, just reacting to crises. This plan is taking back initiative and making the other side do the reacting. I'm not sure it will stop Hydra permanently, but it will stop Ross. Right now that will be enough.”

“You're looking forward to this.” Bucky kissed him quickly. “Let's get in out of the cold and get some dinner.”

“Bucky, you still haven't told me.” Steve honest to god pouted. 

“Told you what?” Bucky was puzzled, the comment coming from out of nowhere.

“Your phrase, your 'magic words',” Steve clarified. 

Bucky shook his head and began moving again. “Dinner, Steve. Dinner is waiting.”

Steve huffed in annoyance. He'd find out eventually. His curiosity was too demanding for him to just give up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting closer to the end and trust me, there is one in sight.


	43. Chapter 43

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans move ahead. And long term ops require a little break for the holidays.

Over the next weeks, conferences were held including video over secure links and social media began tracking long threads of discussion of a 'lost train'. Eventually Jan Wozniak's accounts posted tantalizing photos, badly lit images from some distance, showing equipment that looked like a locomotive with at least one car. The location was dark and cramped and Wozniak gave no clues about where it was but was full of plans to explore the mystery site beginning in the spring.

Bucky and Steve boarded a stealth cloaked quinjet on the 23rd of December. The house Clint had been occupying seemed empty at first. When they approached the porch, Vision opened the door. “Good afternoon, gentlemen." He led them into the house and up the stairs indicating one end of the hallway. “These are all vacant. Please select whatever appeals to you.” Steve shifted his weight from one foot to the other but Bucky was much more decisive. He opened the first door and glanced inside and then proceeded to the second and did the same. At the third, he nodded and returned to grab the bags and dropped them inside the door. 

“Where's everyone else?” he asked as they descended the stairs. 

“Wanda and Mr. Barton went into the woods directly east of here and should return within the hour.” Vision was heading to the back of the house where a large kitchen opened up off the end of the hall. “There is fresh coffee and whatever else you may require for a meal if you are hungry.” He gestured at a huge refrigerator and a bank of chrome and glass cabinets. 

“They doing recon?” Bucky asked as he sipped the coffee he had poured. 

Vision seemed to search for the correct way to express the concept. “Mr Barton expressed a wish to acquire a conifer approximately three meters in height and 'fluffy', as he phrased it. He also indicated that certain of the crates on the flight with you were intended for 'seasonal shenanigans'.”

Bucky frowned, the expression only deepening as Steve began to giggle and then to laugh so hard he had tears in his eyes. Between bouts of laughter, he looked at their uncomprehending expressions and that only made him laugh harder. He finally wound down a little and managed to choke out, “A tree! He went to get a fucking Christmas tree. In the middle of an undercover op he went to cut down a Christmas tree.”

“Yeah and I found a beauty.” Clint called from the front hall. “And you two are just in time to help me drag it inside.” They ventured out to the porch and, sure enough, there was an enormous pine tree on a small sledge. “Where are those crates?” Seeing the boxes stacked next to the door, Clint dove in, finally coming up with a spidery looking contraption with large screws and a bucket in the center. “Ha! Now we're ready.” He waved an arm at the door. “Come on. Hustle! Get that into the big room just left of the hall. The ceiling there is plenty high enough.” Clint ran ahead and Steve and Bucky shrugged and gathered up the tree with Wanda holding the door. They angled the thing back and forth to wedge it in and got their clothes covered in sap and needles. By the time they got the tree to the desired room, Clint had the device in the middle of the floor. “Trunk goes through the ring with the screws anchoring it and the base in the bucket.”

Three tries, one of which almost took out the big windows and several adjustments of the screws, and the tree was more or less upright and seated in the water filled bucket. That was when Wanda pointed out that the windows were actually french doors that opened to the side of the porch and wondered why they hadn't brought the tree in that way. Steve picked at a splinter and put a hand out in Bucky's direction. “I know,” he said, in a stage whisper. “We'll wait until he has his guard down.”

Bucky glared at Clint a moment more than smiled. “Good idea. You still have that great tactical mind.”

Clint looked between them and sidled out of immediate reach. “Uh, Vision, help with the rest of the crates?”

It only took about an hour to finish the tree once Wanda took the light strings away and got them on the tree herself. The boxes contained an amazing collection of shiny, glittery and hilarious ornaments, including a complete set of Avengers action figures in miniature. The Iron Man figure had an LED in the chest that connected to the light string and Thor's hammer made intermittent noises and glowed. It might have seemed a bit bizarre at first, but as Steve considered, it made perfect sense. The idea of friends visiting the resident writer coupled with a tree and other signs of the season would actually divert attention. It was a very ordinary thing to do. 

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another installment. Yes this is going to end. I have a cunning plan... oops wrong fandom.


	44. Chapter 44

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sexy interlude as the plot moves toward it's eventual conclusion.

Leaving Clint and Wanda to put finishing touches on the tree, Steve followed Bucky up the stairs. The room where Bucky had left their gear was actually a suite with a luxurious bathroom and a small sitting room. The bed was a monstrous four poster of heavy carved wood. Steve was admiring the details when Bucky stepped up behind him. “Think it's big enough?” he asked, humor in his voice.

“Depends on whether you hog all the blankets,” Steve retorted.

“I do not!” Bucky huffed in indignation.

“Yes, you do,” Steve smiled affectionately.

“Well, maybe,” Bucky acknowledged. “But only because when I do that you stay closer.” Bucky's voice had dropped to a low purring tone and he nuzzled at the back of Steve's neck then tugged him around to face him. “Hands up and grab the bed.” Steve did as asked, swallowing hard as Bucky crowded him against the wood and leaned in. His lips slid provocatively up Steve's throat and along his jaw. Steve heard his own heartbeat, loud in his ears. Bucky took his time, not even touching with his hands, just exploring with his mouth. When their lips met, Steve opened on a sigh, welcoming Bucky's tongue and tangling his own with it. Firm hands finally settled at his waist, untucking his shirt and sliding up his chest. Bucky kept pushing the fabric up until he had to break the kiss for a moment to tug the shirt over Steve's head and off. 

Steve replaced his hands on the bedframe. He was enjoying just concentrating on the feelings Bucky gave him. Right now he was sliding his hands, cool metal and warm flesh, over Steve's chest and down to his belly, all while renewing the increasingly deep kisses. After a few moments of this, Bucky pulled back and, with lips just a breath away, asked “You okay?”

“Fine,” Steve whispered back. Bucky nodded and slid his mouth to the notch of Steve's collar bones then down and across smooth skin and heavy muscle to the rise of a nipple. Steve watched, eyes hazy, as Bucky flicked his tongue out to lick lightly then blew a soft breath over the dampened flesh. It tightened sending a jolt of pure pleasure down Steve's spine to his cock. He'd been half hard all along but the sudden increase in sensation made him push his hips forward as he filled, constricted by his remaining clothes. Bucky grabbed at his hips, stilling him as he sucked the nipple into his mouth, scraping carefully with his teeth. Steve was biting his lip to stop the flood of sounds that pushed to be heard. Bucky trailed his lips to the other nipple, repeating his attentions then brought his face back up, kissing Steve's mouth gently. 

“Stop doing that. You've got no need to keep quiet. I don't give a fuck if the whole house hears us.” He punctuated this with running his fingers up Steve's ribs and tickling. Steve gasped out a laugh then moaned when Bucky switched tactics again and pinched both nipples. He gave up the attempt to keep quiet. Bucky began to slide down his body, placing small kisses and teasing nips over the skin of his stomach. Once on his knees, Bucky brought his hands to the waist of Steve's jeans and slid the belt free of the loops. He popped the button and began to tease the zipper down. Spreading the flaps of fabric, the plain blue briefs underneath had a sizable damp spot where Steve's already aroused cock had been leaking. Bucky shoved the jeans down and tapped Steve's ankles one at a time to get him to lift his feet then tossed jeans and shoes to one side. He looked up and Steve stared into his upturned face, his own flushed and sweating. “Can you keep your hands there?” Steve nodded, willing to anything so long as Bucky kept doing whatever he was doing. “And I want to hear you. No holding back. Consider it encouragement for my efforts.” With that he leaned in, laying his mouth over the damp spot. He sucked through the fabric, mouthing and scraping gently with his teeth. Steve's head thudded back against the post and his long drawn out moans seemed to drive Bucky a little wild. He yanked the briefs out of the way so abruptly the fabric tore. Bucky bypassed the erection bobbing with every harsh breath Steve made and placed sucking kisses on the soft skin on either side. He stroked the inside of Steve's thighs before scratching with the nails of his right hand, then letting him feel the coolness of the plates on the left.

“Bucky, please more!” Steve's cries became louder and more desperate and Bucky chuckled and pushed closer. He nosed in behind Steve's cock and licked the right side of his sac. He slid his mouth over it delicately and the gently rolling motion of his tongue and the soft sucking left Steve trembling. When Bucky switched to the other side, Steve thought he must be leaving fingerprints embedded in the wood under his hands. Bucky cradled the sac in his hand and trailed his tongue in a slick glide up the underside of Steve's weeping cock, circling the tip and then sinking it into his mouth in the tiniest increments. Steve was vaguely aware of a steady litany of 'please, please, please' that seemed to be all he could say. Bucky finally slid all the way down and swallowed and Steve found even that capacity fled. He just howled at the sensation, completely lost in it. Bucky gave a soft hum and pulled back and repeated the action slightly faster. He played, establishing a rhythm and then switching it as Steve gasped out loud trying to keep up with the changes. The only thing he did manage to do was hang on to the bed. Bucky finally settled to a steady bobbing motion. He reached his flesh hand back under the taut scrotum to rub gently. The pressure slid over firm to a much softer area. Steve moaned louder as Bucky's tongue slid around the head of his cock and two fingers began to rub and press in a slow circle. Abruptly, Steve needed to come with an urgency he couldn't ever remember feeling. His hips snapped forward and Bucky rode the motion, swallowing every drop and stroking as he did so. 

Steve finally let go of the bed frame when Bucky stood up and guided his hands down and settled him on the mattress where he lay back, boneless and sated. Bucky took a moment to shuck out of his own clothes and slid up next to him, leaning on an elbow and watching his face. “What?” Steve finally choked out, voice slightly hoarse. 

“Just wondering if you're okay. I kinda sprung that on you.” Bucky looked concerned. Not precisely worried but making sure.

Steve frowned then made the connection. “Oh, you mean, uh...” He moved his fingers in a little circling motion. He felt a smile spread over his face recalling the feeling. “Was unexpected but amazing.”

Bucky searched his face for a moment more. “As soon as I did it, I worried it might spook you. But you seemed to like it.”

“Made me crazy!” Steve admitted. “What even was that?”

“You haven't been doing the required reading, Sweetheart. Rubbing there puts external pressure on the prostate. I wanted to get you really worked up before I tried it.” Bucky still sounded vaguely doubtful.

“I'd say you succeeded.” Steve stretched like a big cat. The room was warm and quiet and he felt a little lazy but roused himself to glance at Bucky. He nodded to his evident arousal. “What would you like?”

“How do you feel about me rubbing off against your ass?” The words were shocking in the imagery they conjured. Steve hesitated just a moment and Bucky's expression began to close down. 

Steve turned carefully around and looked back over his shoulder. “Great idea. That way you do the work.” He managed a grin and turned back around, relaxing. They hadn't tried this yet but nothing they had done in the past few months had been anything but pleasure. He could trust Bucky with his safety anywhere. 

There was a sudden flurry of movement as Bucky reached over the side of the bed to hook a bag closer. He returned, fitting himself to Steve's back and scattering kisses over his shoulders and neck. His right hand reached down and stroked over hips and buttocks. Steve sighed and stretched, encouraging. He hissed and muttered, “Little cold, Buck,” when a slicked finger moved between his cheeks, spreading the lube and withdrawing. Bucky was breathing in rapid gasps against his neck as he began to slide his erection along the slicked path in a slow erotic glide. Steve hitched back a little to increase the pressure and Bucky wrapped one arm around him, other hand on his hip. When Steve flexed his hips, Bucky's gentle leisurely movements became more urgent. Steve felt the repeated slip of flesh over his opening, a slight tug on the rim as the head of Bucky's cock slid past, and he shivered and tightened his buttocks to feel it again. Not scary at all, just a little strange. Not precisely arousing but he imagined he could find it so if the sensation continued. It wasn't likely to. Bucky was already too close. He made two or three more uncoordinated thrusts and Steve felt sudden wet heat and Bucky sank into the mattress behind him. Steve turned to face him and they tangled arms and legs, sprawled around and over each other. 

Silence reigned for a few minutes as they half dozed. Steve finally opened one eye and kissed the nearest available piece of Bucky he could reach, the inside of an elbow. “We need a shower,” he declared. He sniffed expressively. “Aside from the obvious, we both still smell like pine tree.”

Bucky looked at him and tested the observation with a sniff of his own. “You're right.” He pushed off the bed and headed for the bathroom. Steve heard the patter of water as the shower started up. “Shower and clean clothes then dinner.” Bucky's head poked around the edge of the door. “Shower's enormous. Come join me.” He gave a sexy smile and ducked back in as the steam started to waft out the door. Steve went along, fairly sure this might not be the fastest way to get ready for dinner but absolutely sure it might be the most rewarding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So two chapters in a weekend and I hope you all enjoy.


	45. Chapter 45

To no one's great surprise, Christmas dinner was catered by Stark Industries. Sam as the purported editor had arranged it with locals with an account through one of SI's divisions. The logic was that this made the locals happy with the money they were making and gave them a look at the supposed writer and his friends having a very commonplace holiday house party. Sam returned from Prague just in time to supervise the caterers' arrival. Nat had apparently encouraged the plan as good camouflage. People wouldn't be as curious if they had a glimpse inside the writer's house. 

Dinner was an amazing collection of traditional dishes from both America and Poland. The combination was excellent. Bucky especially approved of the addition of pierogies colored with beet juice and stuffed with spinach and cheese. He ate almost an entire platter of them by himself accompanied by copious quantities of roast goose. Wanda kept pushing more at him while Sam just stared in awe. Steve's personal favorite was the stuffing. He happily finished off the bowl when the rest of the diners declared they had enough. Clint excused himself after dessert and declared his intention of making the rounds of the property. He did this once a day fairly openly at the same time every morning. The locals might assume that it was part of his writing routine. He made another circuit at random times but made sure not to be seen. So far, he had found animal tracks and little else. 

Sam, Wanda and Vision were watching a film on the satellite system. Steve was a bit surprised that Bucky hadn't joined Clint. Instead he found him lying on the hearth rug in the parlor looking up at the tree. The flickering lights and the fire were the only illumination. There was music playing softly from hidden speakers. The drawn curtains created an illusion of the space being isolated from the rest of the world. 

“Thought you were going to read.” Bucky nodded at the book that Steve had placed on the table near the sofa. 

“Can't concentrate,” Steve replied. Can't figure out if it's too much dinner or what.”

“Maybe just too much waiting,” Bucky said considering. Steve ignored the sofa and sat near Bucky on the rug. 

“Maybe,” Steve agreed hesitantly. “ How are we so sure it's going to work? I mean Ross might not take the bait or may send someone else.”

“According to Nat, he already has taken the bait. You heard what she said last night.” They had been video conferencing every few days via a secure line. “She told us Ross already has travel plans in place. He's coming to Warsaw. It's supposed to be a long delayed vacation but he has his two closest aides leaving Washington the day before and they're booked to Slovakia. I'd guess they're lining up mercenaries. There's a guy in the region who hires out reliable troops. And Ross has deep pockets.” 

“There just seems to be so many things that might fall through,” Steve persisted. 

“That's the case with any op. You can't control everything. But we have good planning and even better people. All we have to do is follow through and let the bastard hang himself. We have the Oberst communications and once Ross is on the ground, with troops as backup, we've got confirmation of his intent.” Bucky poked idly at a dangling bauble on a low hanging limb of the tree.

“And if he decides to make it a fight?” Steve asked.

“You know the answer. We're more than ready for that. And I would have no hesitation in taking the bastard down permanently if I thought that was the only way to end it. Hell, I could have gone ghost again and taken him out though an office window months ago but that wouldn't serve the purpose. We need him to show up dirty and expose his connections so there's less likelihood of somebody like him getting a chance to do the same thing. Expose how he's worked and let the public see him for what he is.” Bucky grinned mirthlessly. “If we get really lucky, he'll end up in that hellhole of a prison he constructed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I know it's been a very long time since I updated. I did some small edits on the previous chapters and posted this new one. I just had surgery about two weeks ago so will be able to actually devote time to finishing this monster.


End file.
